


Crimson

by TheSSClexa



Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: AU, Clexa Week 2017, College AU, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Slow Burn, Some angst, harvard au, modern day AU, undergrads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSSClexa/pseuds/TheSSClexa
Summary: Clarke and Lexa, both seniors at Harvard. Not so fast, they don’t just meet in class or in passing.How will Clarke and Lexa meet this time?What if Lexa was still with Costia?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a slow burn. Don't care about the story and just want the good stuff? Go to the end.

Clarke scans the list of elective courses, she just needed one more to finish her last year at Harvard. Scrolling down the list, an elective catches her interest, something different and almost comical. For 3 credits: A Glimpse into a Post-Apocalyptic World. Clarke lets out a cackle, selecting the course.

\--------

One week later.

Strolling into class, Clarke sits down in the middle of the room. She actually felt a little excited about the course and finally, a break from her pre-med classes. To Clarke’s surprise, the class was only half full, but it wasn’t unusual for students to skip the first day, typically just a syllabus overview. It’s 11:50 when class ends, Clarke looks down at her phone to see a missed text from Raven.

RAVEN  
Going to Boston this weekend for the March, coming?

Raven, one of Clarke’s best friends, was at MIT and she was referring to a peaceful demonstration in downtown Boston. Clarke was weary of such demonstrations, never knowing if things would go south. She hesitates and doesn’t respond to Raven’s text, which usually equates to a ‘no’.

On her lunch break, Clarke feels another text buzz through her pocket while chewing a sandwich. It’s Raven again.

RAVEN  
C’mon Clarke, this is for no one but us and our future. We should be there.

Clarke never really liked labels, but believed in loving whoever you love regardless of sex. She should at least go to show her support in addition to all the other topics in debate these days. 

CLARKE  
Fine.

\-----------

Saturday afternoon.

“Fuck, dammit Raven! I knew I shouldn’t have come! You never know how these things will turn out,” spits Clarke as she, Raven, and a handful of other demonstrators were being escorted by the local police department. Clarke looks at the guard, “We didn’t even do anything!”

The guard responds, “Sorry, but this is for your own safety, as well as ours. It’s a preventative measure.”

The group is split in half as Raven is lead down a hallway and Clarke turns the corner. As a cell like door closes, Clarke shouts, “Don’t I get a phone call or something!?” while grabbing the bars and shaking them as if they’d falter.

A calm and steady voice from the corner emerges.

“We’re just detained, not under arrest.”

Clarke turns around. She sees a long haired brunette sitting cross legged and content in the corner of the room. The brunette looks up, making eye contact with Clarke and the glow from her green eyes almost knocks Clarke off her feet. Clarke feels as if she were Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, laying her eyes on the Emerald City for the first time and seeing that it was real.

Clarke blurts back the only response she could think of, “What are you, a lawyer?” Attempting to put up a front as if she wasn’t taken aback by the brunette.

The brunette smiles, “No, but I did put in an early application for law school.”

 _Great job Griffin_ , Clarke thinks to herself. Clarke looks at the brunette's clover shirt to search for a rebuttal. An old April 22 Earth Day shirt. Maybe she was here to protest the pipeline or EPA's budget cuts vice LGBT rights? Nevertheless, Clarke couldn't ignore that the green shirt only brought out the brunette's eyes even more.

Still baffled, Clarke could not come up with a rebuttal, merely settling for a nod. She wanders around the edges of the room, too nervous in the presence of the unbearably attractive brunette to sit, pretending to be deep in thought. The sound of the brunette’s voice almost startles Clarke’s pretend pacing.

“Why don’t you sit? It’ll be at least a few hours.”

Clarke takes a seat in the far corner. The brunette chuckles lightly and Clarke swears it’s like an angel smiling at her.

“Why are you all the way over there like I’m sort of savage?” asks the brunette.

Quick Clarke, think of something to say. Say ANYTHING.

“Sorry, it’s just- I didn’t want to come in the first place,” replies Clarke.

“What’s your name?” asks the brunette.

“Clarke.”

“Clarke,” the brunette repeats back to her, adding a kick to the K in Clarke’s name, “I’m Lexa. Sitting here probably just gives you too much time to think. Like I said, we’ll be out in a few hours, nothing to worry about.”

Clarke nods again, except she was nowhere interested in leaving the cell because she was worried, more like awestruck, which was rare for Clarke. Awkwardly, Clarke remains quiet, picking at her finger nails with nothing the do. Every now and then she glances over at Lexa, who seems to be _meditating_? Eyes closed with a faint smile on her lips. Clarke REALLY couldn’t think of anything to say to the beautiful woman across from her, too afraid to disturb such a sight. Lexa opens her eyes again and Clarke darts hers away, pretending not to stare.

The sound of Lexa lightly wincing brings Clarke’s attention back to the brunette. Lexa is picking at some dried blood on her palm. Clarke’s instincts kick in, but also, a perfect reason.

“You’re hurt,” says Clarke, quickly getting up and approaching Lexa.

“Oh, it’s just a light scratch.”

Without asking, Clarke kneels down to gently grab a hold of Lexa’s wrist for a closer look.

“You should really keep that clean,” says Clarke.

“I didn’t come here and not expect to get pushed around in a crowd of thousands.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. Placing Lexa’s hand down, she goes to the sink to wet a paper towel and proceeds to clean Lexa’s cut.

“Are you at Harvard?” asks Lexa, referring to Clarke's red shirt with the words "Crimson" on the front. 

“Uh yeah, undergrad,” replies Clarke.

“Oh, me too. What major?”

Clarke’s heart nearly leaps out of her chest at the thought that _this_  girl shares the same campus. She keeps her reply short to hide her nerves, “Biochem, pre-med actually."

Lexa smiles again, “Makes sense,” looking down at Clarke’s makeshift patch job. Lexa continues, “Probably why I’ve never seen you. Poli-sci, you know, pre-lawyer stuff. We would have never shared a class.”

Clarke nods, “No, I guess not.”

An awkward silence fills the space between them again. Clarke is usually much more forward, hardly shy, but is left speechless each time she makes contact with Lexa’s eyes- like ten thousand emerald pools, trapping her in. Feeling immobilized, she can’t tell if she wants this moment to end or last forever.

Finally, Clarke hears footsteps. The guard unlocks the door. _Thank_ _god_ , Clarke thinks to herself, as if the guard were unlocking the doors to a gas chamber. Clarke was finally able to breathe as she steps out and walks briskly towards the lobby, approaching Raven. 

“Aw, c’mon, that wasn’t so bad Griffin,” mocks Raven.

Quickly grabbing her confiscated belongings, “I’m ready to go,” Clarke says curtly, attempting to leave before getting caught up in Lexa’s eyes again. Raven would never let it down.

Except Lexa’s voice cuts through the ambient noise as she walks by casually in the lobby, “Bye Clarke, maybe I’ll see you around campus.”

Again, Clarke can only muster a nod in Lexa’s direction as the brunette leaves the building.

Raven swings her head around, giving Clarke a wide eyed glance.

“Not bad at all Griffin.”

“Shut up, Raven. Let’s go.”


	2. Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, but a good one!

_Pre-lawyer stuff? Seriously?_ Lexa thinks to herself as she walks back to her car. Whatever, it didn’t matter what impression Lexa left on the blonde. Clarke was definitely cute, but with any luck, Lexa WON’T be seeing her again.

As Lexa approaches her car, her phone rings. Lexa answers, “Hey babe, yeah, I’m just about to head back now. No, no, nothing like that. Okay, will Facetime you when I get home. Tell you all about it. Love you, bye.”

Costia, Lexa’s girlfriend, was studying abroad in South America. They had been together for nearly two years, and living together for the latter half. It was a hard decision when Costia left, but it was her dream, and she would be back by the end of the semester.

Lexa couldn’t help but feel a slight hint of guilt for her interactions with the blonde today. But, it was all circumstantial, and Lexa even tried to close her eyes to avert eye contact, fearing it would give her away. It wasn’t until Clarke touched her hand that Lexa was insanely aware of her pounding chest, barely able to control her breathing. This was not like Lexa, and she didn’t like the way Clarke made her lose self-control, even for the briefest of moments.

Lexa and Costia were happy together. _There’s no reason for this nonsense,_ she told herself, brushing it off. Even more so, Clarke was a pre-med student and as Lexa verbalized, more for self-reassurance than anything else, they would not likely cross paths again. Confident in that, Lexa even left with a silly, “Maybe I’ll see you around campus,” an empty intent.

\------

Less than a week later, Lexa steps into the most useless of classes, in her opinion. Handpicked by her best friend Anya for losing a bet, Lexa scoffs at the title, A Glimpse into a Post-Apocalyptic World. She had never skipped the first day of class for anything, except this one.

Lexa drags herself through the door when suddenly, she feels like she can’t breathe and chokes on her coffee, embarrassingly spitting some out. Lexa spots the blue eyed blond in the middle of the classroom. Undeniably, it’s Clarke. Unfortunately, her choking noises bring the entire classroom’s attention in her direction.

Lexa clears her throat, wipes the corner of her mouth, and gathers as much composure as possible, stepping briskly aside. Typically, her first choice in any classroom was the front row. She was a straight A student with intent to get an early acceptance into Harvard law. Smart, bold, confident, and also a little controlling, she admitted to herself, but she took pride in it. However, not today. Today, she felt like an idiot, like the universe was playing a mean trick on her. Definitely not today, as she scurries towards the back. Maybe, just maybe, the blonde didn’t see her at all?

“Hey, Lexa!” shouts Clarke with a wide smile, waving her over to sit next to her. 

_FUCK._


	3. A Second Chance

Clarke couldn’t believe how dumbfounded she was in the Lexa’s presence, shy and speechless like a cowering dog. No one has ever had that effect on Clarke and it engrossed her.

While Raven was driving them back from Boston, thoughts of Lexa’s green eyes linger and Clarke shamelessly searches on Facebook.

“What kind of name is ‘Lexa’ anyways?” Raven jokes.

“Shut up Raven. Ugh, maybe it’s just short for something.”

“Try Alexandria,” replies Raven.

“Oh, good idea!” replies Clarke as she enthusiastically punches the name in the search box, “Except there’s like a thousand Alexandria’s. I should have just ask her for her number or given her mine. I don’t know what came over me,” Clarke replies, scrolling through endless cover photos of girls named ‘Alexandria.’ Finally, Clarke tosses her phone down, “This is useless, she probably isn’t even on Facebook.”

Raven pulls up to Clarke’s apartment.

“Maybe you can just pop into a few poli-sci classes, you know, look for her?” Raven suggests.

“Like a stalker?!”

Raven laughs, “Yeah, I guess like a stalker.”

Clarke shakes her head in disapproval as she’s getting out of the car.

“I’m not doing that. Thanks for the ride Raven, game this Friday?”

“You bet. Student night!”

They were planning on going to the Boston Bruins NHL hockey game at a discounted student rate. Not only did Clarke and Raven both go to high school together, but they played ice hockey together. Clarke almost went to Boston University on scholarship, almost. But, after a few concussions too many, decided to focus on school and her future as a doctor instead and Harvard was her first choice. Being a doctor suffering from long term concussions was not something she wanted.

\------

 

The following Tuesday.

Clarke walks into her most prized elective, eager to actual start the subject instead of just reviewing the syllabus. She already has an idea of what her final paper will be on; nuclear apocalypse.

Clarke sits down in the same seat she was in last week. Opening her notebook, Clarke doodles a few lines and circles until she hears a girl choking in the front of the class room. Clarke looks up.

At first, she is in slight denial, _it can’t be_. But to Clarke’s surprise and gratification, it’s Lexa. Except Lexa looked a little, disarrayed, unlike the calm, cool, and stoic girl in the cell. Clarke doesn’t think much of it, probably because Lexa is choking on her coffee she tells herself.

Clearly the universe had given her a second chance, and she wasn’t going to be the dumbfounded blonde this time. Clarke was much surer of herself than she portrayed that day in the cell. Actually, she was always sure of herself, confident in all her decisions and unafraid to speak her mind.

Clarke smiles and waves Lexa over to sit next to her. She watches eagerly as Lexa makes her way through the seats, but Lexa’s eyes show something different. _Is she glaring at me?_ Still too excited to read too much into the situation, Clarke was just happy for the second opportunity.

“Looks like we have a class together after all,” says Clarke as Lexa takes the seat next to her.

Lexa clears her throat again, even though there’s no coffee there. Just her own tongue caught and leaving her speechless.

"Uh, yeah. Looks like it,” Lexa is barely able to mumble out.

“How’s your hand?”

“Huh? Oh!” Lexa looks down at her hand to avoid Clarke’s eyes, “It’s um, it’s fine. Thanks.”

To Lexa’s savior, the professor walks in to start the class.

Clarke was insanely proud of herself, she knew she had enough poise to at least wave Lexa over to sit next to her. While taking notes, Clarke routinely glances over at Lexa, memorizing her movements and noting the little things like her North Face backpack with a cute tree print pattern, a Black n' Red notebook, forest green coffee tumbler, and _god_ , the way Lexa chews on the back of her blue pen. 11:50 ticks and Clarke can’t help herself, she had an upcoming Walking Dead season premier party at her place. Judging from the course title, Lexa would surely be interested.

Clarke asks without any reserve, “Hey, I suppose since you’re in this class, you’d be interested in a Walking Dead season premier party this Sunday. At my place?”

There’s hesitation in Lexa’s eyes, unlike the girl the cell. _Why did Lexa seem so nervous?_ Regardless, Clarke gives Lexa her infamous puppy eyes to sway her, “C’mon, it’ll be me and some of my friends. Super chill. We all have bets on who’s going to die next.”

Lexa is barely able to muster a slight nod coupled with a few blinks, followed by a light, “Sure.”

Clarke’s smile grows even wider, “Great, here.” Clarke leans over to Lexa’s notebook, purposefully closer to Lexa than needed and scribbles a series of numbers down, “Shoot me a text and I’ll give you my address. See you Sunday.”

Before Lexa can even respond, Clarke gets up and proceeds out the door.

\----------

 

To Lexa’s savior, the professor walks in and class starts. Relieving the pressure of formulating words, Lexa feels like she can breathe again. Sure, it was easy to talk to the blonde in the cell, fully expecting to never see her again. But this, _this_ was the last thing Lexa expected.

Lexa _NEVER_ chews on her pens, except she couldn’t help herself as Clarke habitually looked in her direction. Lexa did her best to jot notes, a reminder for weekly quizzes, a midterm, final, final paper and class today was on basic map and atlas skills. _This is stupid_ , Lexa thought. Everybody had phones nowadays to navigate. With the lack of notes, Lexa succumbed to chewing on the back of her pen to settle her nerves. Another never for Lexa, the feeling of nervousness. Clarke had a profound effect on her and she couldn’t shake it.

It was the longest 50 minutes of her life, sitting unbearably close to the Clarke. Lexa contemplated dropping the course. _That’s what I’ll do_ , she decided. She’ll just have to eat her own words and listen to Anya’s bantering, but anything would be better than this.

As the minute hand hits 50, Lexa is about to deliver a set of parting words, something along the lines of, "Sorry, I’m not as interested in this class as I thought. Bye." But before she could even inhale to speak, Clarke starts.

“Hey, I suppose since you’re in this class, you’d be interested in a Walking Dead season premier party this Sunday. At my place?”

 _What?!_  Lexa HATED the Walking Dead, which was why Anya ironically picked this course for her. She couldn’t imagine living in a world full of zombies, the thought made her gag. And the gore, made her stomach churn. Except this time, it was Clarke’s offer that made her stomach churn. Of course, Lexa’s first instincts spelled a big N-O. Going over to another girl’s house while your own girlfriend is abroad was blatantly asking for trouble, Lexa would never. Lexa is about to say no until Clarke’s eyes turn. The blue seas look ridiculously adorable, like a golden retriever puppy melting your heart.

“C’mon, it’ll be me and some of my friends. Super chill. We all have bets on who’s going to die next.”

Lexa can’t say no, she wants to, but the words don’t come. Before she knows it, she’s nodding. She’s FUCKING nodding and lets out a light, “Sure.”

The rest is a blur, Lexa feels as though she’s been drugged as she gazes at the series of numbers on her notebook. _What just happened?_ Lexa wipes her sweaty palms alongside her jeans. Not only does she have to watch one of her least favorite shows for pretend, but she’s further agreed to additional interactions with Clarke.

Lexa swallows, slowly gathering her things, still processing what happened until the vibration of her phone brings her slightly back to reality. She reaches in her pocket and sees the picture of a familiar, beautiful, caramel skinned face with dark curls. Costia is calling.


	4. Season Premier

Lexa spends the remainder of the week reading Reddit, other articles, and binge watching the Walking Dead. She gets the gist of the show, fast forwarding through the gruesome gore, and gathering the politics of the show. It actually wasn’t too bad as long as she ignored the blood, guts, and guns. What a terrible world. Nevertheless, she feels prepared for Clarke’s premier party and mentally picking the ‘next to die’ just in case she’s asked.

\----

 

Friday Night.

The sound of Raven’s car horn further agitates Clarke, she was already moving as fast as she could. Gathering her purse, phone, hockey jersey, and looking for her other shoe.

“Let’s go Clarke! We’re going to be late!”

Clarke scurries out to meet Raven, carrying her things in a heap while hopping on one foot to put on the other shoe.

“How do you even make it on time for class?”

“Shut up Raven, I’m here, let’s go.”

As Raven speeds forward for student night, Boston Bruins vs Minnesota Wild, Clarke immediately brings up Lexa.

“So guess who’s in my apocalypse class?” says Clarke.

Raven was quick, she knew right away, “No! The girl from last weekend, whatever her name was, Alexa?”

“Just, Lexa. I invited her over on Sunday,” Clarke snickers, “I felt like an idiot in that cell, completely speechless. But, she’s not getting by me this time.”

“Alright Griffin,” replies Raven, giving Clarke a light nudge and smile.

\------

 

Sunday Night.

It’s 8:30pm when Lexa apprehensively knocks on Clarke’s apartment door. She can hear a small crowd of voices laughing behind the door and unexpectedly, a dark haired girl opens the door.

“Hi, um, is Clarke here?”

“You must be Lexa, come on in. I’m Octavia.”

Lexa walks in, and is greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. She spots Clarke’s glimmering hair in the distance, by the kitchen, laughing and mixing something alcoholic in a blender. Their eyes meet across the room and Lexa swears that she’s going to the 2nd circle of hell for this moment. Except Clarke’s smile pulls her out of her own thoughts, clouding her judgement, and all she can do is smile back.

Lexa makes her way to the kitchen counter.

“Hey Lexa, want some?” asks Clarke as she pours the mixture in a cup.

Lexa didn’t normally drink anything beyond a beer or glass of wine. Plus, she didn’t need anything else clouding her judgement, especially a blender filled with bright green slush.

“Um, no thanks, got any beer instead?”

Clarke looks over her shoulder, eyeing the fridge.

“There’s some in the fridge, whatever you like.”

“Thanks.”

Lexa grabs a Miller Lite, and stands awkwardly next to Clarke with nothing else better to do.

“Let me introduce you, I believe you’ve met Octavia, the one who answered the door, she’s my roommate,” starts Clarke, and continues around the room with her eyes, “that’s Raven, my best friend from high school, she’s at MIT, Lincoln, Octavia’s boyfriend, Bellamy, her brother, Gina, his girlfriend, Jasper, Monty, Harper, John, and Emori.”

“Hey,” says Lexa, waving to them all, almost instantly forgetting their names.

It appears to be a fun group as Lexa glances around. Piles of chips, gummy bears, and popcorn lay around as they get ready for the season premier. Lexa’s eyes land back on Clarke’s, who was already looking at her, sipping teasingly through a straw. _Jesus Christ_. Guilt begins to pile on Lexa’s shoulders, instantly regretting coming at all. She should have just stayed home, but Lexa had never been a flake, always when and where she said she would be. The sound of Raven’s voice breaks their eye contact.

“So who do you think it’s going to be?” asks Raven.

“Um, what?” replies Lexa, snapping out of the daze she tried desperately not to get caught in.

“Who do you think is going to be the next main character that dies?”

“It’s hard to say. But it might be Eugene,” says Lexa, picking who she thinks is the least liked, but could care less.

Jasper yells from the corner of the room, “I second that! Definitely going to be Eugene!”

The room rumbles as others start yelling names, “Maggie! No! Darryl! No! Carol! Not Carol! Obviously it’s going to be- !”

Finally, Bellamy bellows through the shouts, “Shut up! Show’s starting!”

Clarke hasn’t sat down yet, and Lexa intends to pick the least comfortable spot, purposefully avoiding Clarke. Eventually, Lexa snags a spot on the floor, against the wall under a window. At a steep angle, Lexa is in one of the least ideal spots to watch TV.

Unfortunately, Lexa’s plan fails as Clarke approaches and plops herself down right next to her at and even WORSE angle to watch TV. Clarke scoots agonizingly close, until their touching, the side of their bodies are actually touching and Lexa feels like she’s about to asphyxiate.

“Is this okay?” Clarke asks innocently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lexa blurts, pretending to not notice and taking a deep breath.

Lexa tries to backtrack and figure out how she got herself in this position. But the warmth of Clarke’s body against hers is incredibly distracting. Lexa can’t recall a time when she’s felt like this. EVER. She’s undeniable attracted to Clarke with Costia in the back of her mind. This was a bad idea, Lexa shouldn’t have come at all. Though she’s done nothing wrong, guilt continues to pool as the show begins.

Lexa intolerably sits through the show, grinding her teeth and refusing to move. Every now and then, Clarke ducts her eyes at a scene, leaning further into Lexa, so close that Lexa can smell her hair. Lexa is counting the seconds until she can leave. The hour is almost up, there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

Lexa exhales in relief as the show ends, abruptly getting up to use the bathroom. Lexa hovers over the sink after washing her hands, splashing some water on her face to remind herself of reality. She was with Costia, and she **loved** Costia. _What was she doing here?_ She shakes her head in disappointment in herself. This wasn’t right and she knew it.

Lexa opens the door of the bathroom only to run into Clarke, waiting in the hallway.

“Leaving so soon?” asks Clarke.

“Yes, I- have some studying to do. Thanks again Clarke.”

Lexa averts her eyes, looking to walk past. But Clarke puts her hand on the wall, stopping Lexa. They’re inches away as Lexa looks back into Clarke’s eyes, boring a hole in Lexa. Clarke’s eyes made no mistake in delivering her message. Clarke's blue eyes burn with desire and Lexa lets herself feed into it, just for a moment. If Lexa was going to the 2nd circle of hell for her eye contact earlier, surely she's going down to the 9th for this. Lexa is biting her lip so hard to stop herself she might bleed. Clarke begins to lean in. Their lips are centimeters away when Lexa musters her last ounce of self-control and leans as far back against the wall as she can, putting her hand lightly on Clarke’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I- I can’t,” Lexa says.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Clarke replies with a confident smile and inviting eyebrow raise.

Lexa lets out a small chuckle, “No, not that. Just, trust me, when I say I can’t.”

“Umm… Okay.” says Clarke, she wasn’t use to rejection. 

“I should probably go,” replies Lexa.

Clarke nods.

Before leaving, feeling slightly remorseful, Lexa counteroffers with a casual study date, there was no reason not to be friendly, “Hey, would you be interested in studying for the quiz tomorrow morning? At Darwin’s up the street?”

“Huh?” says Clarke in a slight stupor.

“Study, Darwin’s, tomorrow morning?”

Darwin’s was a coffee shop just off of campus. There were two, one on the west side of campus and one on the east. Normally, Lexa was on the east side of campus since it sat across from the library, but this time, she was referring to the one closer to Clarke’s apartment.

“Um, yeah, sure,” says Clarke, still processing her failed attempt.   

 

\----------

 

“So you going to try and fuck her tonight?” teases Raven as Clarke poured green Kool-Aid, Midori, ice and vodka in the blender.

“Ugh! Raven, have some decency!” snaps Clarke as the rest of her friends laugh.

“I hear she’s a lawyer?” says Octavia in the distance.

“Pre-law,” replies Clarke, “You guys take everything out of proportion. I just invited her over.”

“And?” trails Raven.

“And… we’ll see,” says Clarke, shrugging and laughing with the others.

Clarke knew her confidence stood out above others and if she really wanted to go home with somebody, she did. She didn’t abuse it, but almost never faced rejection with her poise and demeanor. Clarke wasn’t over the fact that Lexa left her flabbergasted in the cell. Lexa was insanely attractive and Clarke wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to kiss the beautiful brunette if she could.

The door knocks as they’re still laughing. Clarke’s still in the middle of blending.

“That’s probably Lexa, can you get that O?”

“Sure thing,” replies Octavia.

Raven comes up to Clarke and nudges her, making Clarke blush. Clarke looks up from her smile and almost drowns in a sea of green, and no, it wasn’t the green slush mixture. She smiles widely and Lexa returns the gesture.

As the show starts, Clarke is a little disappointed in Lexa’s seating choice. Nevertheless, Clarke decides to set next the gorgeous brunette, and maybe even lean on her throughout the night. But, to Clarke’s discontent, Lexa doesn’t move much. _Maybe Lexa’s shyer than she lead on?_ Clarke thinks to herself. _Or, who knows, maybe Lexa’s never even been with a girl._ Though she was nearly 100% sure Lexa was interested, Clarke reminded herself not to make any assumptions. Either way, it didn’t change Clarke’s mind. They get up from the show and Clarke decides to intercept Lexa as she exited the bathroom.

Lexa looks as though she’s ready to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” Clarke asks.

“Yes, I- have some studying to do. Thanks again Clarke.”

She’s unsatisfied with Lexa’s answer. Not when they’re this close. Clarke puts her hand up along the wall and locks eyes with the brunette, it’s like a blue glacier smashing into a sea of green. Clarke can read the desire in Lexa’s eyes too, watching Lexa bite down on her lip, Clarke can’t mistake that look and begins to lean in. She’s taken aback when the brunette leans away and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I- I can’t,” Lexa says.

The only time Clarke got this reaction was with a girl who had never been with another girl. She tries to reassure Lexa.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Clarke replies.

To her surprise, Lexa _laughs_. _Is she laughing at me?_

Lexa replies, “No, not that. Just, trust me, when I say I can’t.

Clarke is confused, “Umm… Okay.” _Why the hell not?_ Clarke wanted to ask, but still a little taken aback. Clarke was positive that she didn’t read Lexa wrong.

Before Clarke could ask another question, for clarity, for her own sanity, Lexa is out the door. Something, something, morning. She can’t remember.


	5. Cliffs

The following morning, Lexa texts Clarke a few times without response, followed by a phone call that goes directly to voicemail. They were supposed to meet to study for their quiz. Lexa decides she probably hurt the blonde by denying her and she at least owed her an apology coupled with an explanation- that she already had a girlfriend. Finally, Lexa elects to swing by Clarke’s place to apologize and continue on her day.

Lexa knocks on Clarke’s door. Silence. She is about to leave when Clarke opens the door, she’s wearing sweatpants, an old high school hoodie, and hair in slight disarray.

“Hey Clarke, sorry but I couldn’t reach you on your phone.”

“Oh yeah, my phone’s dead. Sorry about that.”

“I um, I just wanted to apologize for last night. I-“

But before Lexa could continue, light shuffling in the background behind Clarke catches her attention and she’s lost her words. A girl with dark hair is getting dressed and it’s NOT Octavia.

“Oh um,” looking behind her, Clarke realizes Lexa can see past her, “No worries. Just give me a few minutes, I’ll be right out,” says Clarke as she shuts her door.

Oddly, Lexa feels a little bothered by the fact that Clarke proceeded to sleep with someone else. Feeling replaceable. She shakes off her thoughts. _Why does she even care?_

Clarke emerges from her apartment in jeans, a light flannel and dark jacket. “Ready,” says Clarke, closing the door behind her.

“Huh?” replied Lexa, still a little perplexed.

“You still wanted to study right?”

“Oh, yeah,” replies Lexa, remembering that was their original plan.

As they begin walking, the words spill out of Lexa’s mouth before she can think, completely foreign to her, “Clearly you didn’t need me to stay last night.” Lexa is in utter shock and awe at her own words. _What is wrong with me?_ She was ready for Clarke to slap her in the face.

Clarke blushes lightly, but isn’t the least offended and dishes it right back, “Jealous?”

“What?! No, of course not. I have my own girlfriend,” spouts Lexa, purely reactionary, unlike the calm and planned delivery she originally intended, why did she have to say it like that, my _own_ _girlfriend._

Clarke stops dead in her tracks, like she was about to step off the end of a cliff. She looks at Lexa in a combination of bewilderment followed by realization.

“Oh my gosh! I am _sssooo_ sorry,” says Clarke,” I just thought- your- uh- fuck-”

Lexa interrupts, “No, it’s okay. I-.”

“Still, oh my god, I feel so stupid.”

“Clarke, stop. It’s okay. It’s entirely my fault. I- I should have said something earlier.”

Smiling at each other, their eyes meet for a second to come to an understanding. They continue along the sidewalk to the coffee shop down the street.

Naturally, they spend the majority of the day together. On top of studying, they found each other extremely easy to talk to, spanning multiple subjects like they’ve know each other for years. Clarke played hockey through her youth, giving it up because of too many concussions. Lexa, believe it or not, fencing and polo.

“Fencing and polo?!” blurts Clarke, laughing loudly, “Like swords on horseback?! You were born in the wrong century!”

“They are two separate sports Clarke,” Lexa rebuts with a smile on her face, “I don’t go around riding horseback with a sword!”

Clarke continues to laugh and it rings throughout the coffee shop. Habitually, she looks down at her watch, a watch her father gave her. Lexa had received the entire back story, both revealing that they had each lost a parent. Clarke lost her father nearly 7 years ago to a work accident and Lexa lost her mother to cancer 8 years ago. Something neither of them typically shared, but felt at comfort in each other’s company.

“Oh shit, it’s almost 7pm. I have to go, promised to meet my mom for dinner,” says Clarke, closing her laptop, books and gathering her things.

Lexa nods in understanding. Just as Clarke is getting up, Lexa hears a familiar voice behind her.

“Lexa, what are you doing on this side of town? Actually, what are you even doing out?” It’s Anya.

Lexa turns in her chair to greet her best friend.

“Oh hey, actually, I’m studying for that class you um- signed me up for. This is-“

Before Lexa could introduce Clarke, Anya was saying her name.

“Clarke,” says Anya slowly.

Clarke squints her eyes as she reaches back into her memory.

“Anya right?”

“Yeah,” replies Anya.

Suddenly, Lexa feels out of place between her best friend and the girl she secretly has a crush on, but refuses to admit.

Anya looks back at Lexa, “You’re actually studying for that apocalypse class?! I figured you would have dropped it by now. I know how much you hate the Walking Dead.”

Lexa can feel the blood rushing up her neck and filling her face, Anya exposing everything. It was awkward. To her rescue, Clarke speaks up to excuse herself from the situation.

“I’m actually on my way out,” says Clarke, stepping aside, “See you in class tomorrow.”

Lexa nods as Clarke leaves and Anya uninvitingly flops herself down on the sofa across from Lexa, where Clarke was sitting, glancing steadily into Lexa’s eyes.

“What?” says Lexa.

Anya was quick, Lexa appreciated her intelligence, which is why she continued to subject herself to Anya’s company, who could be rude sometimes, but they understood each other. Except for this moment. At this moment, Lexa wanted to walk herself off a cliff.

“What possible reason could bring you out, to the opposite side of town, studying for a class you don’t even like?” asks Anya, accusingly.

“Anya,” there’s warning in Lexa’s voice, cautioning Anya not to go there.

Anya shrugs, “Okay, whatever. I just know that this,” Anya raises her hand, encircling Lexa’s direction, “this is not you. Clarke must have left an impression on you.”

“Wait, how do you know Clarke?” asks Lexa, before she could think about her words. That’s the second time she’s done that today, speaking in a reactionary tone. It was definitely unlike her, typically calculating her words and actions. _Shit._ If the situation didn’t already give her away, her question just did. Normally, Lexa could care less about who Anya knew, and even less about how she knew them, frequently calling her best friend reckless for sleeping around so much. Lexa, regretfully, already knew the answer to her own question.

Anya sits back in her chair, crossing her arms in astonishment. Her glare widens, almost dropping her jaw.

“Wow, she must have REALLY left an impression on you.” Except Anya’s bantering doesn’t end, “She’s a good kisser,” and adds a prying line, “-if you haven’t already figured that out.”

Lexa snaps, “Anya please, I would never cheat on Costia.”

“Okay, so you haven’t,” Anya replies quickly, “Gosh, you’re more loyal than my damn dog. But if I didn’t already know you better, you’re smitten.” Anya was having way too much fun.

“Oh, fuck off,” says Lexa as Anya bursts into laughter.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Lexa sits back in disbelief, “Excuse me? What do you mean, what am I going to do about it? There’s nothing to do. You know I love Costia.”

Anya rolls her eyes, “Ugh, Lexa, such a fucking square. You should have just gone to West Point like originally planned. Be the heartless soldier that you are.”

“Hey! I’m not heartless.”

“Actually, no, no you’re not,” Anya says apologetically, “Just- predictable.”

Lexa was far from heartless, helping Anya through the loss of her younger sister back when they were in high school. Growing close, they even tried to date the latter half of their senior year, which was a disaster, but remained best friends as they both gained acceptance into Harvard. Lexa almost went to West Point to become an Officer, it was a difficult decision, but chose Harvard to hopefully gain a foot into their prestigious law program.

Lexa starts packing her belongings.

“We’re done, talking about this Anya.”

“Whatever, I just call it like I see it,” replies Anya.

“Still on for dinner tomorrow night?” asks Lexa.

“Of course.”


	6. The F Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight delay this morning, but I made some last minute changes to this chapter. The original didn't sit well with me and it kept me up thinking. Enjoy!

_Well, that was awkward,_ Clarke thinks to herself as she walks home from the coffee shop. She barely remembers sleeping with Anya, a drunken one nighter at least a year ago. It didn’t matter, nothing compared to how stupid she felt when Lexa told her she already had a girlfriend. That thought _never_ cross Clarke’s mind, too focused on Lexa, and now, Lexa’s actions the night before all made sense.

Admittedly, the remainder of the afternoon was quite pleasant Clarke thought to herself. It’s been years since she mentioned her father’s death, yet was able to speak openly about it with Lexa. Lexa was something else, she was special. Clarke was saddened by the realization that she couldn’t have Lexa, that she belonged to someone else. To Costia.

While waiting for her mom to pick her up for dinner, Clarke grabs her phone and clicks on Facebook again. From her conversations with Lexa earlier today, she knew that Lexa did not in fact, have a Facebook account, or Instagram, or Snapchat. Just a barely active Twitter and even lamer, LinkedIn account. Lexa wasn’t a big fan of social media. But… Clarke types in Costia’s name in the search box. There weren’t very many people named Costia.

Sure enough, a picture of Lexa’s face pops up alongside a stunning, caramel skinned girl. Costia was beautiful. And they looked cute together. Clarke frowns in her own disillusionment and an even more troublesome unfamiliar feeling. A honking horn outside startles her, bringing Clarke back to reality.

“So what else has been going on honey?” asks Clarke’s mom, Abby.

With her hometown less than an hour away, Clarke and her mother met about once a month to catch up. Clarke’s mom was an ER doctor, so it was difficult to maintain a routine schedule.

Clarke picks and prods around her dinner plate at the restaurant, still a little disappointed about Lexa. She didn’t feel like talking.

“Oh, not much.”

“Well, you’re awfully quiet tonight.”

Clarke shrugs.

“You ready to go then?” asks Abby.

Clarke didn’t feel like sitting another 45 minutes in the car with her mother, asking more questions.

“You can go mom, I’ll take an Uber or Lyft home. Don’t want to make you drive all the way back.”

Abby takes the hint. She knew that sometimes her daughter needed space.

“Alright then.”

Abby grabs the check and they both walk outside. “Love you, Clarke” says Abby, giving Clarke a tight hug and kiss on the cheek before getting in her car.

While waiting for her ride, Clarke pulls up her phone and scrolls through more of Costia’s pictures, receiving a gut sinking feeling each time there’s one of Lexa. She’s unable to identify her mixture of feelings, this might actually be the first time she’s experienced jealously, unaccustomed to the knot in her stomach she couldn’t ignore. True envy of the dark skinned girl on her phone. A familiar voice from the distance makes Clarke look up.

“Hey, Clarke! Is that you?”

Finn Collins, an old high school friend. They never dated in school, but admittedly, she’d seen him occasionally during her summer’s home from college. It was never anything serious, always casual, and always mutual. 

“Hey Finn,” she replies as he walks up to give her a hug.

“You in town for a while or-?” asks Finn.

“No, just dinner with my mom tonight. Waiting for my Lyft to take me back.”

“Oh,” replies Finn, “Well, I could give you a ride?”

There’s a suggestive connotation in Finn’s voice. Clarke contemplates for a second, knowing that it’ll lead to more than just a ride. Closing Costia’s Facebook page, Clarke gives Finn a second look. _Nah, too easy_ , she thinks to herself.

“No thanks Finn, I’m good,” replied Clarke.

“Alright Princess, see you around.”

“See ya.”

Clarke gets home to the sight of Octavia and Lincoln snuggling on the couch and watching something on Netflix. Unusually bothered by the scene, Clarke grabs the bottle of half opened wine off the counter, shoves the cork in her mouth, spits it out with zero regard, and begins drinking straight out of the bottle on her way to her room.

“Hey Clarke-“ starts Octavia, but is greeted with Clarke’s door closing.

“What’s up with Clarke?” asks Lincoln.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s still upset about Lexa last night.”

Lincoln raises his eyebrows for a better description.

“Girl didn’t put out,” replies Octavia sensibly. 

Clarke plops lazily on her bed with a light thud. She pulls out her phone again, browsing through Costia’s Facebook albums, unable to shake the feeling of jealousy. Gulping the bottle of wine, it was a very pathetic sight, especially for Clarke. This was nothing like her. Lexa had left an impression she couldn’t overlook. She takes a screenshot of one with both Costia and Lexa, texting it to Raven.

 

CLARKE

This is why [sad face emoji]

RAVEN

Whoa, she’s hot (referring to Costia)

CLARKE

Not helping

RAVEN

Sorry

As Rolling Stones would put it,

“You can’t always get what you want”

You’ve only known her for like a day

Just move along

Sorry, that’s all I got for ya

Don’t stay up too late

CLARKE

Thanks Rae

Disregarding Raven’s text, Clarke continues in her pitiful state, reviewing more photos and re-watching videos of Costia and Lexa. She finishes the bottle and passes out around 4am in the same clothes from the day, phone still in hand. 

\-------

 

The following morning.

Clarke wakes to a bright ray of sunshine emerging through the hole in her blinds. She grabs her phone on her stomach to check the time, except it had died, consequently missing her alarm. She looks down at her watch, its 10:51am. Shit, she had class in less than 10 minutes.

Popping out of bed, she bolts out the door.

\---------

 

Lexa is slightly nervous as the minute hand reaches 11:05, sending Clarke another text. Clarke is either late or not coming to class at all. Nevertheless, Clarke bursts through the door in a flurry, slightly disheveled with her hair back in a messy pony tail and the same clothes she had on yesterday. _Is Clarke glaring at me?_ Clarke flops down in the seat next to Lexa.

“Late night?” asks Lexa

“Something like that.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it in time for the quiz.”

“Me too, but I’m here now,” replies Clarke as she stuffs the end of her pen cap in her mouth to pull it out.

For Lexa, class goes by quickly this time, unlike the unbearable agony she experienced last week. She and Clarke shared a nice talk yesterday and Lexa was feeling much more at peace. Class ends, and Lexa expects Clarke to extend another Walking Dead invite. Except Clarke looks like she’s about to leave, impatient and seemingly irritated. Lexa wonders if she’s done something to upset Clarke, thinking back on Anya’s words at the coffee shop yesterday.

“Is- everything okay Clarke?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, fine.”

“Are you- having another Walking Dead party?”

Clarke’s reply is curt, “Thought you didn’t even like the Walking Dead?”

Before Lexa could muster a response, Clarke continues, “Why did you even come over then?”

Lexa didn’t have to excuse, she’d done nothing wrong. Yet, felt obligated to answer Clarke. So, she answered honestly.

“I- I think we both know the answer to that question. I couldn’t say no,” replies Lexa.

“So- what is this?” asks Clarke, referring to space between them.

Lexa shrugs, she gave the only honest answer she had, “Nothing wrong with friendship.”

Clarke bites down on her lip, nodding in understanding.

\--------

 

Clarke looks down at her watch, 11:05, bursting through the door of her class. Sure enough, Lexa is sitting where they were last week, and the sight of the woman makes her nervous. Her sulk fest last night made things worse as Clarke could now identify the feelings that she did have for this woman she barely knows.  

Unwilling to be rude, Clarke gathers all her strength to sit next to Lexa. Unlike last week, class passes by painfully slow, each minute dragging. Maybe Clarke should drop the class, she didn’t like the way Lexa made her feel like a nervous wreck-  shy, uncertain, and humiliating compared to her gorgeous Costia. Clarke couldn’t wait until class ended, getting up instantly to leave.

“Is- everything okay Clarke?"

Her voice was soft, like an angel talking to her.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, fine.”

“Are you- having another Walking Dead party?”

Remembering Anya’s words at the coffee shop- that Lexa didn’t even like the Walking Dead and seemed to be in the course as some sort of joke. Clarke felt betrayed, almost as if- as if Lexa had cheated on her instead. Clarke couldn’t fathom why she was feeling this way. Frustration boils under Clarke’s breathe, “Thought you didn’t even like the Walking Dead?”

Unable to control her emotions, Clarke continues to blurt in an unrecognizable tone she’s never had, “Why did you even come over then?”

Meeting Lexa eyes, _god those fucking eyes,_ Clarke was drowning all over again in those emerald pools. Lexa revealed sincerity, which mitigated Clarke’s frustration.

“I- I think we both know the answer to that question. I couldn’t say no,” replies Lexa. 

Since Lexa was being honest, Clarke presses on, “So- what is this?”

Lexa shrugs, “Nothing wrong with friendship."

Clarke bites down on her lip, she understood. She understood that Lexa loved Costia, intending to remain faithful and could only offer friendship. Fucking friendship. Normally Clarke wouldn’t subject herself to this, she was either all in or all out. But, she didn’t want to tear herself away from Lexa, she couldn’t. If friendship was all Lexa could offer, then she’ll take it. 

“Okay,” says Clarke, looking back up into Lexa’s eyes, “and yes, I’m still having a watch party on Sunday. You’re more than welcome to come. I- I won’t- try to kiss you again,” says Clarke with a light smile.

Lexa smiles back and Clarke swears that’s all she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F for Friendship!


	7. A Perfect Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS UPDATE.  
> Excited to post this as one of my favorite chapters.

After that day, after their friendship “talk”, Clarke didn’t dare to make another move on Lexa. They continued into semester, and weekly interactions slowly turned into daily exchanges. Laughing, smiling, and casually enjoying each other’s company, even if it was just for a few hours during the day. By mid-semester, their schedule went something along the lines of this:

Sunday: The Walking Dead

Monday: Quiz Study sessions

Tuesday: Class, followed by lunch

Wednesday: Laundry, to avoid the weekend rush

Thursday: Ice-cream Thursdays

Friday: Dinner parties

Saturday: Netflix binge

\------

 

Its late fall and the end of the semester was approaching, Costia would be coming home soon. _Finally,_ Lexa thought to herself, she had missed Costia and it would be nice to have some normalcy back. From their random Facetimes, Lexa had mentioned Clarke to Costia a few times. Except, she wasn’t sure what type of balancing act she’d face after Costia got home, her feelings spanning excitement with anxiety.

Lexa looks at the time, it’s ice cream Thursday, and dismisses her thoughts. Thinking about it only made it worse, it wasn’t like she could sit down with a notebook and plan everything out like a future vacation. Lexa grabs her coat to meet Clarke for the evening, the snow was starting to stick.

“What are you having today Clarke?” asks Lexa.

Clarke enjoyed a variety of flavors, typically rotating several different flavors each week and never hesitant to try something new.

“I heard they have pumpkin this week, can’t wait!”

Lexa smiles at the way Clarke talks about the things she loves, especially ice cream.

“Vanilla bean for me, thanks,” says Lexa over the counter.

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Gosh Lexa, same thing every week, you’re such a square.”

Lexa scoffs, “Why does everyone always say that?”

“Because it’s true!” says Clarke, breaking into a light laugh, “Why don’t you, live a little?”

“I am! I just- know what I like and I stick to it,” replies Lexa, nudging Clarke lightly for calling her a square.

“Exactly. Always sticking to what you know,” replies Clarke.

Except there was a slight undertone in Clarke’s voice, against Lexa sticking with Costia. Lexa caught it, batting a light glance, but letting it go immediately. If she didn’t feel something for this blonde girl, she was lying to no one but herself.

“Hey, still going ice skating this Saturday at the Community Center? Half priced student night.”

“I’m going, but I can’t promise you I’ll skate. I’m not a pro like you.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s just Raven and I who played hockey. Everyone else will look just as stupid as you,” says Clarke, emphasizing the stupid. 

Lexa turns with her jaw open, as if she just received the biggest insult in her life. Instead of responding, she pushes up on Clarke’s ice cream cone, smashing some of Clarke’s own ice cream in her face. Before Lexa could start laughing, Clarke does the same to Lexa and they laugh it off, wiping their own faces.

\-----

 

Saturday Evening

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” says Lexa as she tightens the cheap, ugly, brown rental skates up her ankle.

“Hurry up,” replies Clarke, “they’re all already out there.”

The entire posse, Bellamy, Gina, Octavia, Lincoln, Raven, Jasper, Monty, Harper, John, and Emori were all on the ice except Clarke and Lexa. Clarke was running late, again, as Lexa picked her up.

“You're telling me to hurry up? You’re the one who’s late all the time,” replies Lexa.

“I already told you, I couldn’t find my other skates and had to dig out my old ones.”

They were bickering like an old married couple.

Lexa glances over at Clarke whose skates looked beaten to shit, sharp cuts along the black toe box, faded, frayed laces, barely any blade left, and skate tongue hanging out loosely. Actually, the entire skate looked loose.

“Why are your skates so loose?” asks Lexa, “Should I loosen mine? Are you even wearing socks?”

Clarke replies in the reverse order of Lexa’s questions, “No, no, and it’s ‘cause I’ve been skating for years. Here, come here.”

Clarke was already done “tying” her skates and kneels down, picking up Lexa’s other foot, quickly looping and knotting.

“Ready?” says Clarke, standing up and offering her hand down for Lexa to get up.

Lexa takes Clarke’s hand and they walk over to the sheet of ice. Clarke hops on the ice, looking like she’s better balanced on skates than in normal shoes. She helps Lexa on, it’s slippery as fuck.

Raven hockey stops right in Clarke’s face, shooting snow up alongside Clarke like a giant snow plow.

“About time Griffin! Gave me time to warm up, ready?”

It was an old thing Clarke and Raven used to do as kids, race around the circumference of the rink.

Clarke turns to Lexa, “Hey, be right back. Just hold onto the rail okay?”

Lexa nods.

“You’re on Reyes,” says Clarke as they both take a dashing start.

Lexa watches as Clarke races around the rink, each stride filled with power and purpose. Lexa was amazed, she knew Clarke had played hockey in high school, but wasn’t prepared for this. Clarke was a very impressive skater, exceptionally coordinated unlike her daily drastic movements, swiftly weaving through people like stationary orange cones. She and Raven even pushed on each other, which looked like it could end in disaster, but neither fell, just laughed. It made Lexa smile to see Clarke so happy. The sound of a large thud makes Lexa turn around.

“Ugh, shit!” exclaims Murphy, “Fuck this shit! Whose idea was this!?”

Emori glides by, arms flailing about and very unbalanced, but better off than Murphy.

“Come on John, it’s not so bad! Hey Lexa!” says Emori, waving by.

Lexa gives them a light nod, but the sight of Clarke stopping suddenly in front her steals her attention. Face flush from the cold, wide smile, and sparkling eyes. Her blue eyes look even better in the winter snow scene, turning a deep sapphire.

“Sorry, had to get that out of the way. Here, take my hands,” says Clarke.

Lexa reaches out without thinking, gripping onto Clarke, who was remarkable stable as Lexa teetered. Clarke effortlessly glides backwards with surefooted crossovers, guiding Lexa to the middle of the ice. 

Clarke jokes, “You think with all your fencing and polo skills you’d have better balance?”

“Shut up Clarke, people weren’t meant to have two tiny blades strapped on their feet,” replied Lexa, nearly losing her balance from the force of own voice, “This is ridiculous, I feel like a baby giraffe learning how to walk.”

Clarke bursts into laughter and in turn, makes Lexa laugh.

“Hey,” says Clarke, “look at me, relax.”

Forcing Lexa to look into Clarke’s eyes, Lexa couldn’t relax, not because she was afraid of falling, but tense from being so close to Clarke. Holding onto Clarke like she was lost in the forest and Clarke had come to her rescue. She feels herself blush, regretting the friend card, wishing she had never befriended Clarke at all. Getting to know Clarke only made her feelings stronger instead of taming them. To her, Clarke had no flaws. It was an epic fail.

Suddenly aware of her wandering thoughts, Lexa stumbles. But, Clarke catches her around the waist and Lexa instinctually wraps her arms around Clarke’s shoulders. 

“Whoa. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall,” whispers Clarke.

 _Ironic,_ Lexa thinks to herself, realizing that she was legitimately falling for Clarke. Making eye contact again, Lexa doesn’t hide her feelings, revealing desire in her emerald eyes. Lexa won’t initiate a kiss, but if Clarke leans in for one, Lexa doesn’t know if she has the will power to stop this time. Especially knowing who Clarke is now, and wanting to embrace everything about this beautiful blonde haired woman. She thinks about breaking up with Costia as soon as she got home. _How fucked up is that? Hey babe, sorry I'm moving out, I fell for another girl when you were gone. No, she can’t do that to Costia._ Lexa could only hope that with Costia’s return, her feelings for Clarke would subside and forget about this insanely immature bout.

But at this very moment, all Lexa wanted to do was kiss Clarke. It’s Clarke who saves her again, saving Lexa from herself. Reading the moment, Clarke grips a little tighter and places a heartfelt kiss on Lexa’s cheek to moderate the situation, and buries her face into Lexa’s shoulder for a hug.

They sink deeper into the hug and Clarke lets out a long exhale, filling the air with moisture from her breathe. It’s a sad sigh, “So when does Costia get back?” mumbles Clarke in Lexa’s shoulder.

“Tuesday."

Clarke takes a sharp breathe in, it's not as if they weren’t allowed to see each other ever again, but know things will be different. Leaning back, Lexa can see the swell in Clarke’s eyes, she’s holding back tears.

“Clarke, I’m sorry, I-” Lexa begins to apologize, but Clarke cuts her off.

“Don’t be, it’s okay, I get it.” Clarke lets go of Lexa, but holds onto one hand, “C’mon.”

They skate around in a few more circles when Bellamy waves everyone over for a group picture. They squish into a large bunch in front of a lit tree. Clarke and Lexa put their arms around each other, squeezing tightly, both fully knowing that the gesture was for more than just a picture.

Their perfect autumn had ended.


	8. The Final Semester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings readers, so I am able to update this morning but will have limited connectivity this weekend - going camping. 
> 
> Fair warning, this is a hard chapter, and pretty fucking sad. No deaths, not that sad. But I am still trying to write a meaningful story. Just know there's light at the end of the tunnel. I promise. Love you all!

Lexa picks up Costia from the airport on Tuesday night. Unexpectedly, Costia found Lexa to be a little distant, but things normalized after a few weeks. Lexa’s contact with Clarke slimed to just a few texts throughout the week. Clarke sends Lexa pictures of her ice cream of the week and Lexa texts back pictures of vanilla beans. It’s Friday, and if it were last semester, it would have been a dinner party night.

Lexa checks her phone, finding an unread text from Clarke.

CLARKE

Dinner party tonight?

Feel free to bring Costia too.

 

Lexa hadn’t seen Clarke since they took their apocalypse final last semester. Well over a month ago.

“Hey Cos, want to go to a dinner party tonight?”

Sitting comfortably on the couch, Costia looks up from her laptop, peering past her glasses.

“Dinner party? You?” Costia was the social butterfly, it was rare for Lexa to go out, always favoring a good book or Netflix at home.

“Yeah, remember Clarke, the girl from that apocalypse class Anya signed me up for, she typically has people over on Fridays. I went a few times last semester.”

“Sure, you know I’m always down to go out.” replies Costia.

\--------

 

It’s 7pm when Lexa knocks on Clarke’s door, feeling even more nervous than she did the first time she knocked on the door. Raven opens the door.

“Wud up Lexa,” says Raven, “and you must be the lovely Costia?”

“Hi, yes,” says Costia.

They scurry in from the cold wind outside, brushing off the snow and welcoming the warmth of the apartment. Clarke emerges from around the corner and Lexa instantly regrets her decision, her feelings for Clarke had gone nowhere since Costia came home like she’d hoped. She was able to keep them at bay, but seeing Clarke again made them come crashing down twice as hard, like a cruise ship unavoidably alliding with a tiny dock.

Clarke extends her hand to meet Costia, “Hey, I’m Clarke.”

Costia was taller than Clarke expected, she was even more beautiful than her Facebook pictures. Perfect smile, dark curly hair, and auburn eyes.

They make their way to the kitchen area.

“Wine?” offers Clarke, as she pours a few glasses, handing both Costia and Lexa a glass.

Clarke goes around the room, introducing everyone to Costia, except there was an additional person Lexa didn’t know. The stranger, a woman with dark brown hair, puts her arm around Clarke’s waist, and gives Clarke a light kiss on the cheek. Lexa’s sip of wine immediately goes down the wrong pipe, causing her to choke and cough fervently. 

Costia turns to her, “Are you okay babe?”

Lexa nods her head strongly, unable to speak.

“And this is- Niylah,” says Clarke. For some reason, Clarke feels the need to provide Lexa with more details, “She’s um, Murphy’s sister.”

Lexa nods again, giving Niylah a false smile.

The evening continues much less painfully than Lexa imagined. While Lexa stayed mostly quiet, Costia easily conversed with everyone, sharing stories and laughing.

Clarke finds Costia exceedingly impressive, an International Studies major, who spoke multiple languages including Spanish, French, Portuguese, and a little bit of Italian with hopes to work at international embassies. Clarke knew pig Latin, _did that count?_

In turn, Costia took quite a liking to Clarke and her friends, “We should do this more often, do you have dinners every Friday night?” asks Costia.

“Pretty much,” replies Clarke, “but sometimes we’ll rotate, Emori and Murph’s place, Bellamy and Gina’s, but mostly here. You’re more than welcome anytime.”

“Love to, as long as I can get Lexa out,” replies Costia looking over at Lexa, “I’m surprised you even left the apartment without me.”

Lexa shrugs, her words are almost a blatant lie as she looks across the table from Clarke, “I made do.”

As the dinner comes to an end, Clarke has a moment alone with Lexa while Costia is in the bathroom.

“She’s- wonderful,” says Clarke to Lexa, “I can see why-“

Lexa throws on her coat, “Clarke, please. You don’t have to," says Lexa, sparing Clarke from complimenting her girlfriend.

Looking in the direction of Niylah, Lexa means to say something pleasant in return like, “She seems nice,” or even funny to lighten the mood such as, “Good thing she doesn’t look much like her brother.”

Lexa didn’t understand the wave of jealously that overtook her, it came uninvited and caused Lexa to spit out words that meant to hurt and insult, “Clearly you’ve moved on.”

Clarke’s eyes turn cold, “Oh fuck you Lexa, what did you expect me to do?” whispers Clarke briskly, “You think this is easy for me?” grinding her teeth, “Watching you with-“

The sound of the bathroom door opening interrupts Clarke as Costia emerges.

Clarke clears her throat, putting on a fake smile.

“Are you doing this again next week?” asks Costia.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Great, see you next week then?,” replies Costia, putting on her own coat.  

"Sure," says Clarke.

As much as it bothered Lexa to see Clarke with someone else, it was still nice to see her. Lexa lingers for a second after Costia exits, immediately dropping her spiteful tone and into a genuine one.

“It was- it was nice to see you,” admits Lexa.

“It was nice seeing you too,” replies Clarke, feeling the same way.

\---------------

 

The months regulate into an ebb and flow for Lexa. Holding her breath through the week until she could breathe on Friday nights, when she could see Clarke again. Lexa contemplated breaking up with Costia, but failed each time she played the scene through her mind. She still loved Costia and thought of her dearly. It was a sustainable pace as long as Lexa had a chance to see Clarke once a week, it was survivable.

Conversely, the last few months had been excruciating for Clarke, only seeing Lexa on Fridays. She tried going out with Niylah to mask her feelings but broke it off after a few months. Watching Lexa with Costia was painful, but it was better than not seeing Lexa at all. Except Clarke knew she couldn’t sustain this type of pace, “just surviving.” Reverting back to her status quo, she needed to either be all in or all out.

It’s the end of the semester and graduation is on the horizon. The group is out to celebrate their last night as undergrads. Clarke and Lexa find each other standing outside of the bar, getting some fresh air with everybody else stuffed inside.

Clarke musters the energy for a final conversation with Lexa. She had been planning to speak to Lexa for weeks, a speech laid out and even rehearsed, but hesitated each opportunity. Speaking her mind was usually an easy thing to do, but an insurmountable feat next to Lexa, weighing heavily on her heart. Clarke was running out of time.

“Lexa.”

Lexa turns, looking at Clarke, involuntarily admiring the glow of Clarke’s hair from the street lights.

“Clarke,” she replies back.

“I- I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” says Clarke.

Lexa raises an eyebrow, inviting Clarke’s words. Clarke takes a deep breathe in, about to delivery her words.

“I can’t play pretend anymore,” says Clarke.

Lexa crosses her arms, as if it were a barrier against the reason behind Clarke’s statement.

“Well it’s better than nothing,” replies Lexa, referring to the weekly pace they’ve managed to see each other at.

“Is it?” says Clarke, and with hesitation, “I need you to choose, actually choose.”

“Are- you asking me to breakup with Costia?”

Clarke is silent with admittance. _Yes, yes she is_. But, no one wants to be a homewrecker.

“I just know that this,” Clarke points at the space between them, “this sucks.”

“Clarke, we’ve been over this,” the conversation had come up sporadically before, a few sentences here and there, but Clarke had never deliberately asked her to choose, “I can’t break up with her, Costia deserves better than that.”

“Don’t _we_ deserve better than this?” pleads Clarke.

Lexa looks back at Clarke with the only answer she had, "You know I love her.”

“Yeah, but I- !” Clarke stops mid sentence, _I love you,_ she wanted to say, but corrects herself, “I- can’t just be your friend anymore. Maybe you can bury your feelings, hide them, whatever. But I can’t. This isn’t a way for me to live.”

Lexa replies on the brink of tears, but not letting a single one shed, “I’m sorry Clarke, but, maybe if circumstances were different, maybe if I’d met you first, maybe in another universe. If I can cut myself in half and give one half to you and the other to Costia, I would. But I can’t. I’m doing the best I can, and if you’re really making me choose, then my choice is with Costia. I’m sorry, Clarke.”

Lexa’s words were like a thousand cuts, the final one, like a sword driving into the center of Clarke’s chest. Also on the edge of tears, Clarke takes a long pause to register Lexa’s words and formulate her response, “I can’t do this anymore. If that’s the case, then I’m leaving.”

“What? Leaving where?” says Lexa instinctively.

They had both received graduate admission into Harvard, Lexa for law school like she always dreamed and Clarke, medical school. There was no previous sign of Clarke leaving.

“One of my mom’s old classmates runs the medical program at UCLA, he offered me a summer internship with a head start at UCLA’s med school,” says Clarke softly, swallowing to prepare herself for her own words, “and I’m going to take it.”

"Clarke," Lexa says with a pleading tone, "Don't do this, please don't do this."

A single tear falls from Clarke’s left eye, and she wipes her other eye before it can start, “This is goodbye.”


	9. Head vs Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on the upswing now. 
> 
> Cliffhanger warning.

Six weeks into summer.

Costia knows something is wrong, she isn’t stupid. Things were supposed to be happy after graduation, and especially after Lexa’s acceptance into Harvard law. But Lexa’s state of angst got worse after each passing week. Costia was worried about her. Lexa was distant, cold, and even rude sometimes. It wasn’t Lexa at all. Through basic process of elimination, Costia easily singled out the remaining factor.

“Lexa, what’s been going on with you the past month or so?”

“What do you mean?” Lexa says, trying to play it off innocently.

Costia looks at Lexa, “Really? I was going to let it all go, but you’ve been getting worse each week.”

Finally, Costia gathers the strength to ask, “I know something must have happened between you and Clarke. What did you do?”

“What? I didn’t _do_ anything,” replies Lexa, emphasizing the _do_ in her sentence.

“Well, if you didn’t do anything, then what is it?”

Lexa remains quiet.

“Lexa, tell me,” says Costia, she was serious.

Taking a deep breath, Lexa admits in almost a whisper, “I miss her.”

Tears pool in Costia’s eyes and Lexa can’t bear to look.

“Do you miss her like you missed me when I was gone?”

“No. It’s different.”

“Different how?” asks Costia, seeking a more detailed explanation.

“I don’t know, it’s just different.”

Costia takes a deep breathe, regretting her next words, “Do you love her?”

Lexa looks up, equal tears in her eyes, biting her lip as if it would prevent the truth from coming out, “I love you both.” 

“But you love her more?”

“No Costia, I don’t, I- I already made my choice when Clarke left. I chose you.”

“You made your choice huh?” except Costia delivers a **lethal** question, a question Lexa never thought to ask herself, “Did you make that choice with your head or your heart?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you make that choice with your head or your heart?” repeats Costia.

Lexa remains silent, analyzing the complexity of such simple words. But Costia fills the silence, answering the question for her. Costia was always intuitive, something Lexa cherished about her, but not at this moment.

“You think that I don’t know you Lexa? Because from where I stand, I was the logical choice and Clarke wasn’t. Because you weren’t like this when I left to go abroad and now, now I don’t even know who you are.”

Costia was right, she was dead on. Lexa made a calculated decision with her head, disregarding her heart. Except this time, as the weeks passed, Lexa’s state of torment clearly showed that she could no longer ignore her heart. She had made the wrong choice.

“Costia, I’m so sorry,” replies Lexa, filled with remorse.

\--------------

 

Lexa packs her things throughout the next few days. It’s hard, unbearable. They both go through waves of tears, but it had to be done. There was no easy way out. Lexa parts with sad words, “I'm sorry, I never meant for any of this.”

“I know,” replies Costia softly.

Lexa leans in for one last earnest kiss on the corner of Costia’s mouth before leaving.

\--------

 

One week later. 

Lexa is lying motionless on Anya’s couch, sulking. Bundled in sweatpants, a hoodie, and surrounded by tissues when Anya walks through the door, disappointed that Lexa hadn’t moved since she left in the morning.

“Alright Lexa, enough of this. I’ve given you a week with no questions asked. Now get up.”

Lexa looks up from her depressed state, “What?”

“Sit, up.” says Anya sternly, nudging Lexa up with her foot.

“What? Are you kicking me out?”

“No dumb ass,” taking a seat next to Lexa and opening a grocery bag filled with candy and ice cream.

“Here, you have to eat something, you’ve barely eaten anything and I won’t have you starve on my couch.”

“Ugh, I’m not hungry,” replies Lexa.

Anya exhales forcefully, “Come on Lexa, here, I even got your favorite, fucking plain vanilla ice cream,” as she opens the lid and scoops a spoonful. Lexa pushes it away. In that moment, she was reminded of her ice cream Thursdays with Clarke.

 _God_ she missed Clarke so much, replaying Clarke’s parting words that night before graduation. Lexa felt so cruel about the things she said to Clarke and hadn’t talk to Clarke since. Clarke had left and surely didn’t want anything to do with her.

Lexa looks back towards the grocery bag, eyeing the second tub of ice cream.

“What else you got in there?”

“Huh?” says Anya, confused, “Moose-tracks, way too many ingredients for you.”

Lexa lets out a small smile, “She liked moose-tracks,” reaching for the tub, “actually, she liked all the flavors.” Lexa opens the other tub of ice cream and scoops a spoonful. It was actually pretty delightful, a light vanilla mixed with mini peanut butter cups, caramel swirls and fudge.

“Wait, wasn’t Costia allergic to nuts? She wouldn’t have eaten anything with peanut butter in it,” says Anya.

“Huh?” Lexa turns to Anya in a stupor, “No, not Costia. Clarke.”

“CLARKE?!” Anya stands from the revelation, “You’ve been here this whole time because of Clarke?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Lexa shrugs insensibly, “You didn’t ask,” looking down at the ice cream and dipping the spoon in for a seconds.

“I didn’t ask?! Well I’m sorry that I only had **one** assumption when you showed up at my doorstep with boxes and a tear streaked face, I was trying to give you space. Is that why you and Costia broke up? Because you slept with Clarke?”

“Mm-nm, I didn’t sleep with her,” licking the spoon, “It was much worse than that.”

“What do you mean worse?” Anya’s mind reached the conclusion in less than a second, “You fell in love with her, didn’t you? I knew you were smitten since day one!”

“Shut up Anya, you’re not helping and what’s done is done. Now I’m left with neither.”

“Oh for fucks sake. Is she still in the apartment by Darwin’s? I’ll drive you over there myself,” says Anya.

“Can’t,” Lexa’s response muffled, trying to manage the cold ice cream she had in her cheeks.

“Why not?”

Lexa swallows, “Clarke left, almost two months ago. I chose Costia and she left. God, I really am heartless. I know I hurt her and she wants nothing to do with me.”

“She told you that?”

“Well- not in those exact words, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she meant when she left and I haven’t heard from her since,” replies Lexa, neatly shaving more ice cream off the top.

 **Too blinded by her own misery** , Anya had to be the pragmatic one.

“Lexa, you need to call her.”

“What? You think I should call her?” asks Lexa, eating another spoonful.

“Call her, text her, anything. You have to let her know.”

“This is really good. What was this called again, moose-tracks?” looking down.

“Christ Lexa, look at me,” says Anya forcing Lexa to look at her, “You need to contact her and at least apologize. She’ll probably forgive and forget.”

“Really? You think she’ll forgive me?”

“Of course,” replied Anya in a positive manner to support her friend. Anya meant to be encouraging, but she wasn’t prepared for Lexa’s realization. It was like watching the apple fall on Isaac Newton.

“Oh! I’ll go see her! I’ll fly to LA and surprise her! Show you who’s a fucking square!” shouts Lexa as she slams the tub of ice cream down on the coffee table and bursts up from the couch, leaving Anya clueless to how she reached that conclusion. Maybe it was the sudden rush of sugar from the ice cream?

Normally, Lexa would call ahead, schedule dates, dinners, and events. Essentially, plan things to a tee on an Excel spreadsheet if she could, but she couldn’t. The thought of actually going to see Clarke turned her typical calculated actions into a careless approach. Finally admitting to herself, she was crazy for Clarke. Crazy in love and Clarke was worth every last effort. Lexa decided she would surprise Clarke, like a fucking romantic movie, maybe even bearing roses and a teddy bear.

With newfound determination, Lexa mindlessly shoves some of her belongings in a duffle bag and books the first flight to Los Angeles. Clarke said she was at UCLA, surely it wouldn’t be that hard to find her.

\--------

 

3 hours later.

Lexa nervously taps her hands and the tray table in front of her, it was approximately a five hour non-stop flight to Los Angeles from Boston. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It was completely unlike her.

“Excuse me, can you please stop tapping on the back of my seat,” says the man in seat in front of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” says Lexa, anxiously awaiting.

She was too excited to nap, read, or even concentrate. Without the tray table to tap, she’s now mindlessly opening and closing the window blind. The sudden lightening and dimming brought more unsatisfied looks in her direction. _Oh_ , Lexa stops.

Trying to think of something to do, Lexa grabs her laptop and opens it. She’ll draft the words she’ll have for Clarke when she finally sees her. Lexa considers a poem, but that was a little too borderline sappy. _What was she, in high school?_ Certainly not, but she didn’t deny feeling like a prepubescent teenage boy trying to talk to his first crush. Lexa decides to just describe what she felt, and starts blasting away feverishly on her laptop, reciting everything she loved about Clarke, her realization, and begging for forgiveness. It was a beautiful monologue. While editing, Lexa is interrupted by an overhead announcement.

“Attention all passengers, all passengers. Unfortunately, Los Angeles has been hit by an earthquake and we’ve been diverted to Denver, Colorado. We understand this is highly concerning and will provide you additional details as we get them. Thank you for your understanding.”

_Wait, what?! Earthquake? Diverted to Denver?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Clarke is not dead. No deaths remember.


	10. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I have this thing called a job, not sure if you're familiar with that. But it gets in the way sometimes. I should have the remainder of the story out before the weekend. :) Love you all.

Sitting in the hospital breakroom, Clarke reaches into her pocket for her phone again. She does it at least a half-dozen times a day, attempting to send Lexa a text. From a simple, “I’m sorry” to a long winded explanation. But each time, deleting the text.

It had been nearly two months since she started her summer at UCLA. Her initial anger from Lexa’s decision quickly subsided and Clarke was left with grief and regret. She thought that the pain of leaving Lexa would slowly resolve itself, yet she found herself thinking about Lexa even more each day and resented her cold goodbye to the woman she loved. Clarke was strong, but didn’t anticipate such heartache. Further compelling herself to get over Lexa, Clarke deleted her own Facebook account so she’d stop stalking Costia’s page for updates. All or nothing right? Maybe if she kept her account, she’d see that Lexa and Costia broke up over a week ago. But, she didn’t.

Running out of will power, Clarke actually hits send this time, her text was a simple, “Hey.” While waiting for the text to load past the thick hospital walls, Clarke notices the movement in her water bottle, a miniature vibration causing it to ripple. It took Clarke a few more seconds to realize the room was moving, swaying, and then shaking. Recognizing that it was an earthquake, though never experiencing one before, Clarke remembers the safety brief from her first day. She takes cover underneath a table, and luckily, rides out the entirely of the quake unscathed. Once the shaking was over, Clarke made her way outside to the grassy knoll as part of the emergency evacuation plan. They immediately take attendance followed by an announcement 15 minutes later.

“Attention everybody! We’ve gotten some more information, those of you that need to go home, pick up your kids, check on your loved ones, etc, you may now leave and please do so safely. It was estimated from the magnitude of the earthquake that the ER’s will quickly overflow and Incident Command is staging a refuge area at the Convention Center. At least for now, all interns and residents are to report to the LA Convention Center to help. You’ll be doing a lot of basic first aid. All others, standby as we’ll have your assignments tomorrow.”

Clarke gathers her things and makes her way to the convention center. Getting in her car, she glances down at her phone, looking at the last thing on the screen before the quake. Her text to Lexa displayed error, it had not been sent. Additionally, her phone bars now showed an “x” for lost connectivity. The cell phone towers were out.

Clarke wasn’t particularly spiritual, but took it as a sign that even the universe didn’t want her text to go through and the world was against her. With the aftereffects of the earthquake, hopefully she’ll be busy enough to keep her mind off Lexa. She could probably even volunteer for double duty shifts.

\------

 

Lexa gets up from her window seat, rudely stepping over the two other passengers in the middle and aisle seat, fervent to speak to a flight attendant.

“What happened?” asks Lexa.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but you’ll need to take your seat.”

“I don’t understand, why we can’t land in LA?”

“They’re unsure about the integrity of the runway, it’s not safe to land there until a survey’s been completed. Our airline agents will be ready to help you when we get to Denver. Again, I’m sorry.”

Disappointed, Lexa sits back down, even more nervous than before. What if something happened to Clarke? And she didn’t even get a chance to tell her how she felt? She begins to tap the tray table again and the gentleman turns with a loud, “Ahem.” 

Forget fucking surprises, she needed to know if Clarke was okay. Lexa turns her phone off airplane mode even though they’re still in the air, she didn’t care. She was going to start dialing as soon as her phone displayed bars as the plane descended.

“Hey, you’ve reached Clarke, sorry I can’t get to the phone, please leave a message and I’ll call you back. Bye. BEEP.”

“Fuck,” says Lexa, redialing again. On her fifth try, she leaves a message, a slight muddle of words and ultimate reveal that deviated from her well written monologue 

“Hey Clarke, it’s me, Lexa. I just wanted to apologize. You’re probably really mad at me, and hate me. I’m sorry if I hurt you, and I hope you can forgive me. Can you please forgive me? I’m actually on a flight to LA. To try and surprise you, so much for surprises. We’ve been diverted to Denver, because of the earthquake. I just want to make sure you’re okay, call me back. Please.”

The plane arrives in Denver and Lexa paces around nervously by the gate, awaiting an announcement for the next flight out to Los Angeles. She dials Clarke’s phone relentlessly, leaving a second message, “Hi Clarke, I’m in Denver now and I’m waiting for the next flight out. Did I mention Costia and I broke up? I don’t think I mentioned it in my last message. We broke up. I- I wasn’t do very well… without you. Anyways, I just need to know that you’re okay. Bye. 

Lexa looks up as if the overhead announcement was speaking directly to her.

“Passengers on Flight 278 en route to Los Angeles. The next flight out won’t be until tomorrow night at 9pm. We apologize. Food and hotel vouchers will be provided at the customer service desk.”

The terminal erupts in grumbles. Lexa looks at her phone, it was currently 10:13pm, she couldn’t possibly wait that long. Pulling up Maps, she punches in directions for UCLA. 15 hours and 33 minutes. That was doable and Lexa doesn’t hesitate, grabbing her bag in a swift motion and walking briskly to the car rental counter 

She calls and leaves Clarke a third message, “Hey Clarke, I’m uh- I’m on my way. There aren’t any flights until tomorrow night, so I’m renting a car and plan on driving the rest of the way. I should be there around 2pm tomorrow afternoon. God I- I hope you’re okay,” as Lexa speaks, her anxiety grows, worrying that Clarke will never know how she truly felt, “Dammit, you better be okay because- because I love you. Alright? You’re the one for me and I’d do anything for you. Stop a war, or start a war, whatever it was with Helen and the Trojan War, you know what I mean. I love you.”

Lexa drives nonstop through the night with the exception of peeing, getting gas, and eating fast food from the shortest drive thru line. Every now and then, she calls Clarke’s phone again, leaving more messages, each call diminishing in quality as Lexa fatigued, rambling as she drove further into the night and early morning. But, the looming fact that she had not heard from Clarke worried her beyond fatigue.

“Actually, I don’t even care if you forgive me or not, just as long as you’re alright.”

“Did I mention I chose wrong? I couldn’t have been more wrong and I’m sorry. I made a choice with my head. It was the wrong choice. My heart chooses you. So I really didn’t have a choice after all. Call me back.”

“It’s 2am, dark out, and I’m speeding. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Whoa (tires screeching), I almost ran over possum or a raccoon, I’m not sure. Aw, I like raccoons, do you? I think they’re cute with their shadowy masked eyes. Maybe I’ll be one next Halloween.”

“Hey Clarke, it’s about 4:30am. Not gonna lie, I’m pretty tired. I thought you’d be happy to hear I had my first Red Bull. It tastes like carbonated sour piss. I bought three more to get me through the day tomorrow. Still waiting for you to call, anytime now. 

“The sunrise is beautiful, like you. You’re so beautiful. This drive hasn’t been so bad. Do you like road trips? We should take a road trip together."

It’s 2pm the following day when Lexa makes it into the suburbs of Los Angeles. The sight of rubble from the earthquake greets her including closed streets, a fire hydrant leaking, and several abandoned cars, like a scene from the Walking Dead, but in Los Angeles.

Lexa looks down to make another phone call, but she’s lost cell service, _fuck._ Additionally, she’s lost her GPS to navigate the rest of the way. She stops at a gas station for a map, recalling the “useless” apocalypse class and the PowerPoint on how to read and use an atlas.

The irony piles on.


	11. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up extra late, just for each and every one of you.

Present day, time 2:33pm.

Lexa pulls up along the roundabout at the front of UCLA’s medical center, parking in the loading zone. Normally, Lexa despised parking tickets and meticulously read all the signs before she’d pay for a parking ticket. Not today.

“Excuse me, ma’am, this is a loading zone only, you can’t park here!” yells the guard.

“Then write me a ticket!” shouts Lexa as she exits the car, running into the hospital. She came this far and could care less. And, also a little frantic on energy drinks and coffee, fueling her through the day.

The scene inside was chaotic. Doctors, nurses, and injured everywhere. Lexa pulls aside the first hospital staff person who walks by. 

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Clarke Griffin.”

“Names of patients reported in are posted over there,” she says quickly and walking away.

“No- she’s not a patient!” says Lexa, at least she hopes not.

Lexa skims the list and doesn’t see Clarke’s name, gaining slight relief, but Clarke could have been anywhere when the quake hit. Disregarding the line and cutting in front of the next person, Lexa runs up to the counter, “Excuse me, but I’m looking for Clarke Griffin, she’s supposed to be an intern here. 

The attendant doesn’t even look up, responding monotonously, “Check the seventh floor.”

Lexa walks quickly over to the elevators, slamming the up button. After a few seconds, she presses the button again, and then repeatedly as if it would bring the box down faster. The elevator is simply taking too long. Frustrated, Lexa pulls open the doors to the adjacent stairs, racing up two steps at a time. On her scramble up the stairs, she trips a few times, receiving some minor scuffs and a small cut on her forearm. Blowing through the stainless steel doors on the 7th floor, Lexa runs anxiously to the first counter she sees. 

Panting, “Clarke - Griffin.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, all incoming patients are all on the first three floors. There’s a list posted downstairs. Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?”

Lexa swallows, shaking her head and catching her breath, “No. I’m fine. Intern. I’m looking for an intern. Clarke Griffin.”

“Oh, well all interns were directed to the convention center." 

“What? Where the hell is that?”

“1201 South Figueroa Street dear.”

Lexa exhales, “Thank you." 

Sprinting back down the stairs, Lexa navigates through the crowd of people in the lobby. Unexpectedly, a passing gurney snags her shirt, leaving a notable tear, but Lexa ignores it. Returning to her rental car, Lexa is greeted with a bright pink ticket on the windshield. She snatches it without any regard and gets back in, grabbing the map to look for Figueroa Street.

Pulling up to the convention center, the traffic into the parking lot was at a complete standstill. Losing more patience, Lexa swerves to the first empty side street possible, leaving the car practically on a sidewalk. Stumbling out, Lexa runs down the street and up to convention center, panting and sweating from the mid-July LA heat. As she hastily pulls open the convention center doors, a man carrying a tray full of iced coffee runs into her, spilling its contents on her and dropping the rest on the floor.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me!” yells Lexa at the situation, feeling like the weight of the world was against her.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Miss, I didn’t see you- you came out of nowhere."

“Its fine,” replies Lexa curtly.

Feeling bad, she would normally help clean up, but not today. She digs in her back pocket for some cash and throws a 20 dollar bill on the floor to mitigate her guilt for not helping. “Here, sorry,” she says and dashes off. 

If she thought the hospital was chaotic, then the scene inside the massive open convention center was beyond words; a crowd of those who were injured, doctors, nurses, local law enforcement, and people in different colored vests. Lexa looks around for a sign, anything, and spots a ‘check-in’ table.

“Hi, checking in?”

“Hi, no, I’m looking for Clarke Griffin.”

“I’m sorry, this is the volunteer check in counter only. If you’re looking for someone who might have been treated for injuries, all their names are posted on a list over there.”

“Ugh, why does everyone keep telling me that?! No, I’m not looking for someone injured for fucks sake! At least she better not be!” shouts Lexa, reaching the brink of her sanity after being awake for over 36 hours and unable to contact Clarke.

“Ma’am, please, calm down, we understand things are very stressful right now.”

“Calm down?! Don’t tell me to calm down, you have no idea! I’m looking for a medical intern named Clarke Griffin. She’s about 5’5”, athletic build, blonde hair, blue eyes, from UCLA, can you help me or-“

But then, an all too familiar voice says her name behind her. It was soft, warm, and ultimately, relieving. A voice she felt like she’d been waiting an eternity to hear.

“Lexa?”

Lexa spins around. It’s Clarke, _THANK GOD, it’s Clarke._ She was perfectly fine and looked even more beautiful than Lexa remembered, the California sun hitting her just right.

Lexa opens her mouth to say something, except Lexa was caught speechless. All those words she had planned, memorized, and rehearsed, lost. Everything Lexa had wanted to do, kiss Clarke, hug Clarke, anything, gone. The only thing Lexa could do was stand in awe.

“What are you doing here?” asks Clarke.

“M-moose-tracks, I- I mean, messages,” was all Lexa could say.

“What?”

“Messages, did you get my messages?”

Clarke shakes her head, “No, cell towers have been out since yesterday.”

Their short conversation is interrupted.

“Griffin! We need you in the East Wing!”

Clarke turns, “Yeah, just give me a few minutes!”

But the reply was unforgiving, “No, now, we just got a wave of injured in! 

Turning her attention back towards Lexa, “Shit. I gotta go. Um, I’m not sure what’s going here, but-,” Clarke grabs a small notepad from her pocket, jotting something down quickly, “I’ll be off in a few hours, just meet me at my place. There’s a spare key in the porch light,” says Clarke, handing Lexa the piece of paper.

Slightly worried, Clarke adds, “Um, the key will be hot, so don’t burn yourself… and maybe get cleaned up?”

Realizing that she hadn’t looked in a mirror since she left, Lexa looks down at herself. The side of her shirt is ripped and the front drenched with iced coffee, her jeans of dried ketchup and mustard stains, scuffed shoes with a lace untied, dried blood ran along her forearm, and dirt along her hands. She was a hot mess.

 ------

 

A few minutes earlier.

Clarke finishes bandaging a patient when she hears commotion by the far check-in table, which wasn’t abnormal as people scampered in to locate their loved ones. She ignores it at first, but the echoing tone seemed familiar and it causes her to look up.

In the distance, she sees the back of a messy haired brunette, who looked a lot like Lexa. It was uncanny, even her mannerisms, and Clarke could almost swear. But, Lexa would never be caught looking so deranged. The woman was clearly a victim from the earthquake with her shirt torn and dried blood running along the back of her forearm, yelling at the counter volunteer. Lexa would never yell at a stranger. Any frustration or anger always showed through her eyes, not verbally. 

Clarke decides to walk over and mitigate the situation. She could probably offer the victim some water, a place to sit and calm down, and a cheap blanket. But as Clarke approached, she couldn’t deny that it looked more and more like Lexa. Clarke thought she was hallucinating from the amount of people she had already seen throughout the day.

Within a few feet, Clarke could hear the woman’s voice. It was hysterical and desperate, but undeniably, belonged to Lexa.

“Lexa?” Clarke says quietly.

Clarke is taken aback as the brunette swings around. _It is Lexa_ , she was not hallucinating. Past the bloodshot eyes, mangled hair and scuffed face, it’s Lexa. Clarke felt her heart skip a beat, she wanted to hug her, kiss her even, but unable to process the situation before her, only managed a single reactionary question.

“What are you doing here?”

_Did Lexa just say moose-tracks? Like the ice cream? I must be really tired. Moose-tracks sound really good right now. No, she said messages._

“No, cell towers have been out since yesterday.”

Clarke’s mind was racing with questions she couldn’t verbalize. _What is she doing here?_ _Did Lexa fly to see me after the earthquake? What happened to her? She looks like a wreck, maybe she was here during the earthquake? But if she was already here, surely she would have called me prior to coming. Lexa’s not one for surprises._ Clarke’s thoughts are interrupted when she hears her name being called.

“Griffin! We need you in the East Wing!”

_Dammit, not now._

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes!” replies Clarke.

“No, now, we just got a wave of injured in!”

_Why, why now?_

She wanted to stay and talk to Lexa, ask her about everything. Clarke won’t be off for another three hours, it’d be ridiculous to ask Lexa to sit around and wait. Lexa looked like she had gone through hell, definite lack of sleep, and Clarke couldn’t contemplate what else made Lexa look like a walking zombie. Clarke could at least offer the love of her life something a little better than bottled water, a shitty emergency blanket, and plastic chair. She quickly grabs her notepad.

“Shit. I gotta go. Um, I’m not sure what’s going here, but- I’ll be off in a few hours, just meet me at my place, there’s a spare key in the porch light,” handing Lexa a piece of paper with her address. 

Slightly worried about Lexa’s state of mind, she adds, “Um, the key will be hot, so don’t burn yourself… and maybe get cleaned up?”

**\-------**

 

 _Ow, fuck_ , the key really is hot as Lexa retrieves Clarke’s spare key and opens the door in Clarke’s apartment. It’s small, simple, furnished basics, and scattered with Clarke’s belongings. The only thing missing Lexa would have preferred, candles. Lexa tosses her duffle bag down and goes to the bathroom. She’s shocked by the sight of herself in the mirror, if her clothes looked bad, her hair and face looked even worse. Matted waves, eyes bloodshot, streaks of dirt in her face, and she was missing an earring. Anya would have a ball if she saw Lexa like this. But, for some reason, Lexa didn’t feel embarrassed at all that Clarke saw her this way.

Realizing how unkempt she truly was, Lexa hops in the shower right away, finally feeling relief from the last 37 hours. She uses Clarke’s soap and shampoo, the familiar scent was pure nostalgia, bringing her back to last autumn when she first met Clarke.

Lexa shuffles slowly out of the shower, feeling refreshed and thinking a little more clearly. Digging through her duffle bag, she couldn’t find anything to wear. She left all her dirty PJs and sweatpants at Anya’s, she barely packed anything useful. A pair of tight jeans she hasn’t worn in years, mismatched socks, a few tank tops, no bras, two pairs of underwear and one mitten. The only useful thing was her toothbrush. What was she thinking? Oh yeah, she wasn’t.

Lexa walks over to Clarke’s dresser, feeling a little intrusive, but wanted to be at least decent. Lexa reasons. _Clarke shouldn’t mind, she did just give me access to her entire place._ Lexa pulls out one of Clarke’s old high school hoodies and sweatpants, they were essentially the same height, Clarke a little more built than Lexa, but not by much. Lexa comfortably puts them on.

Glancing over at Clarke’s night stand, Lexa picks up the book Clarke is reading, _Euphoria_ , and flips it open. Clarke is about three quarters of the way through the book, when Lexa takes notice of Clarke’s bookmark. In fact, not a bookmark at all but a picture, a printed 4x6 cut into a two inch strip. It was the group picture they took together, at the ice skating rink that night. Except, Clarke had… cut everybody else out and it was just a photo of them. Arms around each other and smiling in front of a Christmas tree. Lexa sniffles lightly, Clarke wasn’t going to mind her borrowing her clothes after all.

Wandering over to the couch with nothing left to do but wait, Lexa flips the book open to Chapter One. However, Lexa falls asleep before even getting past the first page.


	12. Deliverance Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic was pretty much PG-13, until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to drop a single, "they fucked all night" line, but what fun is that? Enjoy!

 

Clarke eagerly signs out for the day, anticipation growing as she gets in her car to drive home. The sound of her phone buzzing off the hook steals her attention, cell towers must have been repaired, and coverage restored. Clarke has, _17 voice messages_?! She places a single headphone in her ear and hits play, listening to them all. Unable to hold back a smile, she realized that Lexa just half flew and half drove across country for her. It was crazy, but nonetheless, flattering and endearing. Clarke would have fallen in love with Lexa all over again, except she never stopped loving her. 

Opening the door to her apartment, she finds Lexa passed out on the couch with a book on her stomach. Stirring at the sound of the door, Clarke slowly closes it and grips her keys, quietly putting them down. She didn’t know what else to expect, guessing Lexa’s consciousness was probably pushing 40 hours. _Was Lexa wearing her clothes?_ It was adorable. Clarke pulls out her phone to take a quick picture. This was really happening; Lexa, in her clothes, sleeping, on her couch, at her place, in Los Angeles, 3,000 miles from where they first met.

Clarke walks over to the couch, wanting to wake Lexa up and talk to her, to tell her she received her messages, that all was forgiven, and loved her too. Tears start to swell in Clarke’s eyes and her sniffle causes Lexa to stir. Realizing that Lexa might wake, Clarke suddenly couldn’t bear to disturb such a beautiful sight. Just like their first day in the jail cell. Instead, Clarke quietly sneaks by to the bathroom, showering a day’s work from treating cuts, bruises, scraps, and everything else expected as a future doctor.

Wrapped in a towel, Clarke opens the bathroom door and unexpectedly finds Lexa up and waiting for her.

“Lexa, you’re up?”

“Uh- hi. Yes, I’m up. Um, the shower running woke me,” replies Lexa, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oh, sorry, I was trying not to wake you." 

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

For some reason, even though they knew each other better than anybody else, neither could find the right words, a small silence crawls between them.

Feeling a drop of water fall from her hair and onto her shoulder, “I-uh, maybe I should get dressed,” says Clarke, looking to sneak by.

“Oh, yeah, of course…” says Lexa.

Lexa was feeling slightly apprehensive, but as she rested her eyes on Clarke, something inside shifted and she was going to be damned if she let Clarke pass by, practically naked. Instead of moving aside, Lexa steps in closer, putting her arm up softly against the wall to prevent Clarke from passing.

Biting her lip, Clarke looks up as Lexa gently touches her face in admiration. Clarke knew that look, and her heart began to pound so hard her lips quivered. Lexa lightly grazes Clarke’s lips with her thumb, soothing the tremble and **_finally_ ** places an insanely overdue kiss on the Clarke’s lips. It was soft, loving, and heartfelt. They both take a deep breath in, savoring the moment.

They part for a second and Clarke’s eyes burn like wildfire, trepidation gone. Clarke leans in for a second kiss, opening her mouth like she was dying of thirst in the desert, immediately dropping her towel and throwing her arms around Lexa’s shoulders. Lexa pushes Clarke lightly against the wall and their tongues finally touch, shooting a jolt of electricity through both. They kiss naturally, tongues gliding, light nips, and sucking on each other’s lower lips. They couldn’t tell who was who as their breaths raced, trading whimpers. It didn’t matter. And Clarke being a good kisser was an understatement, she was a great kisser.

Lexa continues to kiss Clarke deeply, passionately, in a comfortable pace. Lexa wanted to do everything all at once, but she didn’t want to miss a single moment, slowing herself down to absorb it all. Gradually running her hands up and down Clarke’s naked body, fuck- Clarke has some great abs, and parting to taste the droplets of water on Clarke’s neck.

Moving from Clarke’s hips, Lexa brings her hand up to one of Clarke’s breast, luscious and full, grazing one of her nipples. Clarke lets in a light hiss at the touch; Lexa’s touch was smooth, gripping with just the right amount of pressure. Slowly, Lexa traces her tongue down to Clarke’s other nipple, stiff and supple at the same time and Clarke lets out a moan Lexa’s never heard.

Lexa continues to massage Clarke’s body with her free hand, roaming around the small of her back, around the front of her stomach, up into Clarke’s hair and back down. Clarke is now gently motioning her hips against Lexa, and finally, as Lexa kisses her way back up Clarke’s neck, she lets her other hand drop down between Clarke’s legs. This time, Clarke moans directly into Lexa’s mouth as Lexa’s fingertips gently massage around her clit.

Clarke needed to touch skin, right now. She needed to feel Lexa’s body and realized how unfairly naked she was in comparison. She reaches under Lexa and pulls off the hoodie, slightly surprised to find that Lexa was wearing nothing else underneath.

“Mmm, no bra,” Clarke is barely able to mouth as she slid her hand up Lexa’s side.

“I wasn’t thinking when I packed,” replies Lexa, slightly out of breath.

“I’m not complaining,” says Clarke, eyeing Lexa with a teasing smile.

Clarke’s tease was like flipping a light switch, it was the last straw and Lexa wasn’t going to have it any longer. As patient as Lexa wanted to be, she had waited long enough. A sequence of flashbacks replay in Lexa’s mind; since day one when she first laid eyes on Clarke, the way Clarke teased her during the premier party, the love in Clarke’s eyes when she held her on the ice, and everything in between brought Lexa to this very moment. She wanted Clarke right then and there. Dropping to her knees, Lexa shoulders one of Clarke’s thighs over and presses her lips into Clarke’s fold, enveloping the small bundle of nerves in her soft lips.

“Holy fuck Lexa!” shouts Clarke as her eyes slam shut, throwing her head back from the rush of sensation. She grips down at Lexa’s hair and plants her other hand on the wall for balance.

Letting her tongue out, Lexa finally tastes Clarke and it was like nectar from the gods. Lapping her tongue over Clarke’s clit while sucking gently, Lexa could feel Clarke begin to tremble.

“Le-xa, I-“ Clarke is barely able to exhale.

Clarke couldn’t stand up any longer, close to coming, but not before collapsing. Just as her knee was about to buckle, before she could not take anymore, it was like Lexa read her mind and slowed down to a stop. Lexa kisses her way back up Clarke’s stomach, between Clarke’s breasts, along her neck and to her ear.

Lexa whispers sarcastically into Clarke’s ear, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

And with that, Lexa reaches around the back of Clarke’s thighs and picks Clarke up in one swift motion, wrapping Clarke’s legs around her. Clarke gasps in surprise; Lexa had a slender frame, but was much stronger than she lead on. Firm and secure in her grasp and nothing like the tumbling girl that held onto Clarke like a leaf that day on the ice. Clarke didn’t know she could be any more turned on, she was already on the verge of coming as Lexa plants another kiss on Clarke’s lips, all tongue, and begins grinding her bare stomach against Clarke’s clit.

Clarke could barely manage to kiss Lexa back, overwhelmed with sensation between her legs and desperately squeezing her thighs for more. She swears she about to finish like this when Lexa lets off, peeling Clarke off the wall and walking backwards towards the bedroom.

Sitting on the bed with Clarke straddled on top, Lexa makes her way down Clarke’s jaw, dragging her tongue down her neck, stopping for a kiss against Clarke’s soft skin every few inches. Lexa’s hands wander up and down Clarke’s back, around her ass and eventually between Clarke’s legs. Lexa doesn’t hesitate to caress Clarke’s clit with her fingertips, circling with light pressure in a comfortable rhythm as Clarke continues to moan.

Clarke’s breathing becomes more ragged, mixed with whimpers, sighs, and groans as Lexa kisses her along the neck and by her ear.

“Oh, Lexa, I’ve wanted this, I want you,” begs Clarke, in more ways then one.

Lexa stops for a moment, locking eyes with Clarke.

“I’m here, Clarke. You have me now,” replies Lexa, leaning in for another kiss, a soft one this time, “I’ve always been with you.”

And with those words, Lexa slips into Clarke for the first time, watching Clarke close her eyes from fulfillment, moaning in pleasure, and throwing her head back. Clarke looked like a fucking god.

With light strokes of her fingers, Lexa watches the goddess before her in amazement before moving to Clarke’s chest and taking a nipple in her mouth. Clarke takes a sharp breath in, gasping on the cusp of sensory overload as Lexa grazes her free hand over the other nipple.

“Fuck, Lexa, oh my god, you feel so good, fuck, you feel so good!” cries Clarke.

Clarke’s hands squeeze with each thrust, from gripping Lexa’s hair to holding up her own, hugging Lexa’s head and pressing her mouth against her chest as she rocked. Clarke couldn’t believe this was actually happening. All those nights she’d spent dreaming, wishing, and hoping had become a reality. As much as her feelings overwhelmed her, what Lexa was doing to her was astronomical, touching her everywhere she wanted and needed.

Clarke lost it when Lexa’s thumb pressed against her clit, circling while simultaneously curling her fingers inside.

“Lexa, oh fuck, I’m coming! Fuck, Lex- uh!”

Clarke’s body freezes with the last syllable of Lexa’s name, moaning deeply into Lexa’s mouth as Lexa pulls her down for a kiss as she came. Shuddering uncontrollably as she holds onto Lexa for dear life, feeling Lexa ride her orgasm and moving with her as waves of sensation pitched.

Clarke wasn’t sure what it was, a twist of Lexa’s wrist, a flick of a finger, or combination of, but she was completely caught off guard when she began to come, again, a second time. Breaking the kiss and burying her face into Lexa’s neck, Clarke swears she blacked out as she fell back to Earth, opening her eyes into the forest of green in Lexa’s irises.

Licking her lips and regaining focus, Clarke was unsure how she was still upright until she slowly gained awareness of Lexa holding onto her, holding her up and gently stroking her back. Clarke had heard of multiple orgasms, as well as blacking out during an orgasm, but never experienced either, until now, until Lexa. Lexa was good; she was damn good.

Clarke surged with love, passion, and ultimate determination. She was going to make love to Lexa with everything she had, determined to make Lexa feel the same way; Clarke was going to fuck Lexa into oblivion, like Lexa just did her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You bet your ass Lexa was damn good!


	13. Deliverance Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking out into you  
> Like the wind through static  
> You're my foreign body wrapped in color  
> Would you break down if you're on your own?  
> Falling apart like a nice night, honey  
> Holding your own with no real reason  
> Touching your spine  
> Carving skin to mountains  
> Rising, falling, weathered down like a valley  
> Your shoulders align breaking through my sky  
> Your towers of love calling to my lost eyes  
> Your linen white cage won't stop this healing  
> Soft hands on claws  
> You came so pure  
> Breaking  
> Soft hand, cold thoughts  
> I've feared it all  
> And you  
> Soft hands on claws  
> You came so pure  
> Breaking  
> Soft hand, cold thoughts  
> I fear it all  
> And you
> 
> Talking About Space by Racing Glaciers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Just in time for the weekend. Now I can sit back and read the whole thing myself as well!

As Lexa watched Clarke open her eyes from coming, there was something else Lexa couldn’t recognize. Lexa got a glimpse when Clarke first tried to kiss her, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Clarke, instead of calming and relaxing from her orgasm, which was expected, Lexa had inadvertently fueled a fire, grabbing the canister of gasoline instead of water and dumping all its contents. Slightly unsure of what she just woke inside of Clarke.

Licking her lips, Clarke speaks in a low, husky tone, “My turn.”

Clarke leans forward and kisses Lexa with momentum, causing Lexa to fall back. Setting the tempo, Clarke deepens the kiss while reaching down to intertwine Lexa’s fingers, tenderly holding hands. Using her feet, Clarke kicks off the sweatpants on Lexa’s hips, practically a sin at this point, and drags her tongue along Lexa’s jawline down to her exquisite neck, sucking and nipping. Continuing down, Lexa lets out a small sigh as Clarke stops to suck on her collar bone, only to come back up to meet Lexa’s plush lips.

Clarke lets go of one of Lexa’s hands, dragging her finger tips up Lexa’s arm, around her shoulder and down to a breast, cupping gently and taking in a nipple between her fingers and the other in her mouth, sucking slowly at first, but gradually harder.

“Clarke…” Lexa lets out in a small sigh, Clarke glances up, witnessing Lexa with her eyes shut, lips parted. Lexa needed more.

Shifting her weight, Clarke positions a thigh between Lexa’s legs and Lexa inhales sharply at the pressure, pushing her hips up to meet more of Clarke’s thigh. Clarke steadily gives her more, pressing harder with each thrust of Lexa’s hips.

Lexa couldn’t figure out why Clarke was moving so unbearably slow, feeling that Clarke was probably tormenting her for taking so long to come to her senses. Lexa was already beyond turned on from watching Clarke and could finish from just grinding against her thigh. Just as Lexa’s about to plead for more, Clarke slowly slides her hand down, taking Lexa’s clit between her fingers, gliding up and down on either side and Lexa lets out a deep moan. Clarke captures Lexa’s moan in her mouth, breathing it in like oxygen as she admires the woman beneath her. She wanted to see Lexa’s eyes. Breaking the kiss, Clarke leans down into Lexa’s ear while still stroking her clit.

“Hey,” Clarke whispers softly, her lips lightly brushing against Lexa’s ear, “look at me.”

Lexa opens her eyelids slowly to the sight of Clarke’s eyes, now a deep blue sapphire in the darkening room, like watching the midnight sky appear. Lexa wants to come, she can feel it, but the way Clarke was looking at her commanded her not to, freezing space and time for just a second, long enough for Clarke to whisper, “You are so beautiful,” before sinking deep inside Lexa.

Clarke’s admiration of Lexa’s emerald forest was short lived as Lexa immediately closes them from the sudden rush of pleasure, letting out a high-pitched cry, “Clarke!”

Clarke already loved the way Lexa said her name, always kicking the “K” but this, this was something else and it fuels Clarke even more. She knew she was moving agonizingly slow, wanting to savor every moment to give Lexa the best orgasm of her life, but also didn’t want to wait too long.

Locking lips with the brunette again, Clarke begins to slide in and out of Lexa, gradually increasing pressure, massaging the right spot until she can feel Lexa tighten around her fingers. With her moans getting louder, Lexa was close, but Clarke wasn’t done with her yet, slowing her cadence and pulling out to purposefully sustain Lexa on the edge.

Lexa lets out a litany of swears, “Jesus fuck Christ Clarke! What the fucking shit are you doing to me?!”

What Clarke was doing felt so good, yet completely excruciating at the same time, she couldn’t stand it, begging for more, “Clarke, please!”

Clarke can’t remember if she’s ever heard Lexa curse, maybe once. Lexa never begged. _That was hot_ , Clarke shamelessly thinks to herself.

“Sshhh,” whispers Clarke in Lexa’s ear, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

And with that, Clarke kisses her way down Lexa’s breasts, past her perfect stomach and lets her lips slide gently over Lexa’s bud of nerves, it was like ambrosia. Lexa’s hips immediately jerk up and if Clarke was a great kisser, then her tongue was doing unfathomable things to Lexa’s clit.

Lexa’s string of profanity muffled with Clarke’s name continues to resonate throughout the room. She had no idea how Clarke was maintaining her on the brink like this. It was beyond words, and Lexa felt like she was swaying at the summit until Clarke finally slides her fingers back in, filling Lexa to the brim.

Lexa lets out a scream as she came, both on the inside and out, and a wave of overwhelming sensation washes over her. Whatever Clarke was doing, it lasted long, long and hard to the point where Lexa couldn’t tell whether it was a single prolonged orgasm or several in a row. Seeing spots, Lexa felt like she was among the stars, momentarily weightless and floating in space. Her hands search for something to grab and it was like Clarke knew what she needed, reaching out and giving Lexa her free hand to hold onto, grounding her. Barley able to move, Lexa was past exhaustion, every last ounce of energy she had, Clarke had found and spent on the orgasm of her life.  

Looking up, Clarke pleasantly studies Lexa; eyes closed, breathless, sweat glimmering across her perfect naked body, and still high from her orgasm. Lexa looked like a fallen angel. Crawling slowly up, Clarke waited patiently for Lexa, gently stroking her arm.

Gradually regaining her bearings, Lexa opens her eyes to the sight of Clarke. Lexa smiles and brings her hand up to caress Clarke’s face, “Hi.”

“I told you I knew what I was doing,” says Clarke, and it makes Lexa blush lightly.

They lay in silence for a moment. Facing Lexa and propped up on her elbow, Clarke continues to admire; a stroke of hair, a brush along the cheek, or a fingertip across the lips. Lexa’s eyes begin to droop and Clarke can see Lexa trying her hardest to stave off sleep. Ultimately, Lexa closes her eyes, but keeps a faint smile on her face. Clarke has one last alibi before letting Lexa fall asleep.

“Lexa,” Clarke says gently. 

“Hm.”

“I um, I got cell service back.”

“Huh?” replies Lexa, letting one eyelid slip open. 

“Cell service, I listened to your messages. All seventeen." 

Now both her eyes are open, “Oh shit, I left seventeen messages?” replied Lexa in disbelief.

Clarke lets out a small laugh, “Yeah, yeah you did. A little desperate for you, don’t you think?” Clarke manages to jab at the situation.

Lexa smiles, clearing her throat, “They uh, they weren’t my best moments- just really worried about you. Can we talk about something else?”

“One last thing, do you um, do you remember your third message?”

Lexa thinks back with a soft grin, it was the one she left telling Clarke she loved her. Looking back into Clarke’s eyes, “I do, and I meant every word. I love you.”

Clarke leans forward and whispers into Lexa’s ears, answering all of Lexa’s questions she’d left on her voicemail, “I forgive you, the Trojan War started because of Helen, a raccoon would be very cute for Halloween, you should have had a flavored Monster instead, I would love a road trip with you, and I love you too.”

Lexa grins, Clarke had a great memory, “I love it when you do that. Speaking of desperation…”

Lexa wasn’t going to let Clarke’s jab go that easily. It was like they were best friends again, picking up right where the left off, except now, considerably more. All angst, heartbreak, jealousy, and grief vanished as they lay peacefully together.

“What?”

“Nice bookmark.”

Clarke’s face fills with embarrassment, laughing, “Oh no! I didn’t even think about that. I can’t believe you saw that! It’s so sappy.”

Lexa chuckles lightly, admiring Clarke’s laugh that she hasn’t heard in what seems like infinity, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

They place another kiss on each other’s lips before falling asleep, intertwined.

 

**\----**

Lexa stayed the summer in LA with Clarke, asking Anya to ship her two boxes of clothes. At first, Lexa volunteered for a few weeks to help with post earthquake efforts then to tutoring kids for the remainder of the summer. They had bills to pay, and Lexa had a very expensive plane ticket, a rental car, and several parking tickets to pay off on her credit card.

Out of respect, Clarke finished her summer program at UCLA, but gained re-admittance to Harvard medical school and they both moved back to Cambridge in time to start their respective grad schools.

\---- 

4 months later.

 

It’s ice cream Thursday.

“What’s the one called Crimson and Clover?” asks Clarke, referring to a red, green and white swirled ice cream through the glass.

“That’s our new holiday flavor, essentially peppermint. Don’t ask me who comes up with these names.”

“Oh! I’ll have a scoop of that,” replies Clarke.  

“Make that two,” says Lexa, holding hands and standing next to Clarke.

Clarke looks over, “Feeling adventurous today?”

“You know, just, living a little,” replies Lexa wittily.

Sitting on the edge of curb and eating their ice cream, Raven walks by.

“Hey! I knew I’d find you two here,” says Raven, taking a seat on the curb next to Clarke.

“What’s up Rae?” says Clarke. 

“Actually, I had a question for Lexa,” replies Raven. 

Lexa looks a little perplexed, “Okay.”

“Would it be okay if I, asked Costia out? I mean, it’s been like four months, that’s a respectable time and-,” Raven leans in, speaking out of the corner of her mouth as if she was trying to be subtle, “well, we all know your story.”

Clarke smacks Raven in the arm, “Raven, have you no shame?!”

Lexa smiles, giving the question lighthearted consideration, “Costia is more than capable of speaking for herself. I don’t see why you need my permission. But if it gives you peace, then my answer is yes.”

“Great!” replies Raven, “because I ran into her earlier this afternoon and we’re going out on Saturday.”

“Oh, well, then I hope you have a good time,” replies Lexa genuinely.

“Got any advice?” darts Raven with an eyebrow raise.

Clarke smacks Raven on the arm again, much harder this time, “Wow, you really have no shame! Go, now.” 

“Ow! That one actually kinda hurt,” Raven reacts, rubbing her arm and getting up to walk away. 

Watching Raven walk away, Lexa speaks up, “Hey Reyes!”

Swinging her keys on a long MIT lanyard, Raven turns around.

“She likes sunflowers and Michael Franti! 

Raven lets out a wink, “Cool, thanks!”

Clarke looks back at Lexa, “Aw, you’re so sweet,” and places a kiss on Lexa’s cheek.

“Speaking of best friends, dating exes… and girlfriends, when are you going to tell me about the night with Anya?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “You’re never going to let that up are you?”

“I’m curious, just wanted to know why you didn’t go out with her. Anya told me she asked you out afterwards, multiple times,” says Lexa.

“Isn’t it obvious? Well, I was a little drunk and so I don’t remember much. But, I do remember she was bold, slightly over confident, and a little controlling, and that’s not for me,” says Clarke.  

“Hm, wouldn’t you describe me that way?” asks Lexa.

“You?” Clarke raises her eyebrows, “You put on a good front, but I see right through you.”

Lexa turns, raising her chin to appear more assertive.

“I didn’t want to break it to you baby, but Lexa, you are just one, big, softie,” says Clarke with a wide smile.

Lexa drops her jaw, pretending to be offended and smashes Clarke’s own cone in her face. Clarke does the same to Lexa. But this time, as they laugh, they happily kiss the ice cream off each other’s faces.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to leave Costia hanging! Love you all, thank you so much for reading! Your kudos and comments mean so much to me!
> 
> Need more? Me too. Check out my standealone BONUS scene titled "Clover" for these two lovebirds.

**Author's Note:**

> My inbox is always open! @TheSSClexa on tumblr. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own. Beta also always welcome, for this work and/or other works if mine. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: This work of fiction is mine and in no way representative of the locations/organizations depicted.


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